Colors of the Forest
by gpotter
Summary: There is always a light in the dark. And sometimes, you find that the light's been there all along ...
1. Memories

**A/N - **Well, it's been a _very_ long time since I've written a new HP fanfic, but I hope people who have read this story before come back to read this new and improved version. The plot is essentially the same, with several new scenes added and chapters made slightly longer. I've corrected all the errors pointed out to me, and a few that no one caught. I really hope that this version is enjoyed better than the last one, and I look forward to hearing some feedback!

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Memories**_

The rain beat down on Ginny Weasley's window, and the lightning flashed in the blackness outside, but she paid it no mind. She pulled her wooly purple bedspread up to her chin, trying desperately to block the images flooding her mind. It was already a month since _it_ had happened, shouldn't she be over it by now? But she wasn't, and somewhere deep down, she knew she would never get over it. She closed her eyes finally, and fell into a restless sleep, full of nightmares.

"_Michael, don't . . . not yet . . . " Ginny protested, as Michael Corner's hands roamed ever downward until they reached the clasp of her jeans, and began to undo it._

"_Come on, Gin, it's about damn time we do something more than snog for half an hour, don't you think?" he asked cruelly, pushing her back against the wall._

_She shoved him backwards, and he stumbled a bit. Sometimes Ginny found that having six brothers was an advantage. At least she was a little stronger than the average 'girly girl'. _

"_Michael, I don't want to," she answered, a bit more forcefully now._

_He came toward her, slowly this time. To Ginny, he looked like a tiger stalking his prey._

"_I'm not kidding, I don't want to do anything with you," she growled, wishing she'd stayed broken up with him after fourth year. How had she ever been so stupid as to fall for his act of 'Oh, Ginny, I love you, I'm sorry, blah blah blah'_. _Well, she wasn't going to fall for his act anymore! She was a mature 17 year old, just ending her sixth year at Hogwarts, and there was no way she was going to let this git force her to do something she didn't want to do._

"_I don't care what you want, you little bitch. I'll get what I want from you no matter what I have to do," he whispered fiercely, suddenly coming at her and pinning her wrists above her head against the wall._

_She let herself feel fear now. She had left her wand behind when Michael had convinced her to join him in the Room of Requirement, and Michael was way stronger than she was. To add to that, they'd put a Silencing Charm on the room. She changed tactics, hoping he would relent._

"_Michael, please don't . . . " she pleaded, letting a single tear stray down her cheek, hoping it would evoke some kind of feeling in him._

" '_Michael please don't' Just shut the hell up already!" he mimicked, roughly yanking her shirt up over her head._

_He forced his mouth over hers in a bruising kiss, and after that, all the pleading, crying and yelling was of no concern to him._

Ginny bolted upright from her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Damn it," she muttered, hating that the slimeball could still make her feel this way with only the mere memory of that night. Of course, she had told nobody about it, not even Hermione, who she'd grown much closer to over the course of their time at Hogwarts. After Michael had left her alone in the Room of Requirementthat night, she'd stumbled to the girls' dorms, and thankfully, everyone else had been sleeping. She thanked Merlin that it was the day before the end of term, and she'd be able to go home and get away from Michael tomorrow.

_God, I can't believe I let that happen to me, _Ginny thought for what seemed to be the millionth time. She had always despised those weak women who couldn't prevent something like that from happening to them, and now, lo and behold, Ginny Weasley had become one of them.

She lay back down, her chest on fire, staring out the window at the early morning light filtering into her room. At least she'd slept for a while for once. She hadn't been able to sleep much at all over the past month. Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door, but she didn't answer. She hadn't spoken to any member of her family at all since the rape, for fear that they'd get something out of her. The only words she'd spoken consisted of 'go away' and 'piss off.'

Her door opened, but before she could say either of those things, the person said, "Ginny, please don't tell me to go away. I'm so worried about you, can't you at least tell me what's wrong? I promise I won't tell anyone."

Ginny turned enough to see Hermione standing in the doorway, still dressed in pajamas. She had come the day school let out, to stay at the Burrow until she found a place to live in the Wizarding world, seeing as how she'd already graduated. Ginny didn't reply, just pulled the covers over her head and ignored her.

"Fine, Ginny, don't talk, but I'll guarantee that you'd feel better if you did. But I guess I'm not good enough to talk to," Hermione said in a hurt voice, turning to go back to Ron's room, where she was staying. Usually, she'd share with Ginny, but the situation just didn't call for a roommate. She turned back around and said quietly, "Harry's coming today. Maybe you can talk to him."

_Great,_ Ginny thought. _Bad enough I've got to deal with this, and now Hermione's mad at me. And Harry's coming. Just another person to get me to talk. Can't they see I don't want to talk? Michael would kill me if he ever found out I told anyone._

"Whatever," she mumbled, turning onto her back. She closed her eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but found it impossible. She was afraid of another nightmare, so she sat up, staring blankly ahead at her door. After what seemed like hours to her, she finally felt her eyelids growing heavy, and she laid her head back on the pillow, allowing herself a petty sleep.

She woke a few hours later to a loud _thump_ downstairs. She turned and looked out her window, a habit she'd recently formed. Grey clouds scuttled across the darker grey sky, an atmosphere that perfectly matched her mood.She heard footsteps clambering up the stairs, and remembered what Hermione had told her. Harry was here.

After a while she heard voices outside her door. " . . . she's been like that since the end of the school year," she heard Ron say to someone.

"Well, have any of you tried talking to her?" asked a deep voice, which she recognized as Harry's.

"No, we just let her rot in there," answered Ron sarcastically. "Go ahead, you have a go at it and see how easy it is. I'm going to get something to eat before she hexes me for bringing you here."

Again, she heard a knock on her door, and again she didn't answer it. The door was pushed open, and she glanced toward it to see Harry. He hadn't changed too much over the past seven years she'd known him. He was considerably taller, and he was fairly built from years of Quidditch, and his voice was much deeper. He still had the most beautiful sparkling green eyes, and the mess of black hair that fell into them.

"Hey, Gin, what's up?" he asked warily, not sure what her reaction would be. Ron and Hermione had told him, or rather warned him, of her violent mood swings.

However, she didn't scream at him, but simply ignored him. After a few minutes of standing there, Harry came and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Ginny?" he asked hesitantly once again. Her back was facing him and he didn't know if she was sleeping or awake.

"What?" she muttered. She didn't know why, but for some reason, some part of her _desperately_ wanted to open up to Harry and tell him what had happened.

"Ginny, everyone is so worried about you. What happened the night before graduation . . . where were you?"

Suddenly, without warning, Ginny sat up quickly and burst into tears. Not knowing what to do, Harry pulled her into his arms, threading his fingers through her thick auburn hair. She buried her face in his chest, finally letting out all the emotion she'd been bottling up.

"Ginny, come on, you know you can tell me anything," he whispered into her ear.

"Michael, h — he tricked me into the Room of Requirement, and — and raped me," she confided. God, it felt so good to let the words just spill from her mouth after keeping them in for so long.

Harry held her tighter, wanting to make all of her pain go away, but not knowing how it was possible. The news was the furthest thing from what he had expected. Maybe something about how she was so upset that she was going into her last year of Hogwarts now, or some other emotional thing. Nothing as important as this. But nevertheless, Harry quickly became furious at that bastard, and the minute he saw him, he was going to throttle him until he couldn't so much as lift his head to _look_ at Ginny, let alone touch her.

"Harry, please . . . please make it stop. I can't live with this pain anymore, it's turning me into someone I don't want to be, and I don't know how to stop it," Ginny begged, and it broke Harry's heart to hear this girl, no, this _woman_ in so much pain.

"It's all right, Gin, I'm herenow. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. I'll take care of you, please don't cry."

She didn't answer, only broke down in sobs once more. Harry just held her, knowing in his heart that this was where she belonged, in his arms. And also having no clue how to go about helping her.


	2. Keep Her Calm

_**Chapter 2**_

"Look, Ron, it's not my fault that I have to share a room with you! If your wacked out sister would talk to me for once, then I would be there and not here!" Hermione ground out through clenched teeth.

"Well, it's not my fault either, Miss Perfect! I don't know what's wrong with Ginny, maybe she has PMS or something — " Ron began, but was cut off by Hermione's screeching.

"Don't talk to me about PMS as if you know what it's like! You are a man, and you will never, not in a million years know what PMS feels like, and if Ginny wants to have PMS, then I say we let her!" she yelled.She was getting even madder now, as she often did in the middle of an argument. Ron stood almost a foot taller than she did, something she was endlessly frustrated by, because it made her feel as if she had less of a chance of getting her point across.

"Am I going mad, Hermione? First you call Ginny 'wacked out', and now you're defending her! Oh, Merlin, I'm never going to last the summer with a house full of women!"

"Ronald Weasley, you are the most unbearable, impossible, ignorant prat I know!" she yelled, and stormed out the door. Ron went to his window and watched her march across the yard to the old willow tree by the pond and slump down, leaning against it, a scowl on her face.

To his surprise, no unpleasant names came to his mind as he followed her progress. She was beautiful when she was angry. He'd only just come to grips with the fact that he was in love with Hermione. She didn't know it, and neither did anyone else, though he had a growing feeling that Harry suspected something. And Ginny, as well. _Ginny_. He hadn't spoken to her since the morning of the day before graduation. That was the last day he'd seen her happy, and _alive_ for once. He knew there was something wrong with her more serious than PMS, but he couldn't resist the urge to make Hermione angry.

Resigning for now on the Hermione front, he walked out of his bedroom with the intent of finding a snack, but stopped when he heard the sound of crying from Ginny's bedroom. He opened the door a crack and saw Harry holding Ginny, rocking her back and forth, whispering soothing words in her ear. The sight stirred something within him, and he knew what he had to do. He quelled the surge of anger at someone, _anyone_, holding his baby sister like that, and headed down the stairs; he passed right by the kitchen, an amazing accomplishment for Ron. Screw food, he needed to find Hermione.

When he got outside, he found Hermione quickly, her head resting against the tree, staring out into the water and emitting little huffy noises every few seconds. When she saw him coming, she stood up, ready for another argument.

"Look, Ron, you may think — " she began when he reached her, but he cut her off by grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close to him.

"Ron, what — " he once again cut her off by placing his finger against her lips.

"You talk too much," he whispered, and before she could retort, he covered her mouth with his own, halting any and all other remarks from her.

When he finally pulled away, he was pleased to see that Hermione looked pretty much the same way he felt. And he was also pleased that she hadn't beaten him senseless for what he'd just done. She brought her hand up, and he was sure she was going to strike him, but instead, she tenderly brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"So, you've finally realized it then, you daft idiot," she said, but there was no malice in her tone despite the name calling.

"Realize what?" he asked, confusedly.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "That we love each other," she told him, looking deep into his eyes to make sure she hadn't been wrong, and that he really did love her.

He reached over and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I love you, and I always have. I just didn't realize it until now," he said gently, once again claiming her mouth with his own.

"Harry's with Ginny . . . I heard her crying when I passed her room," said Ron, when they broke away.

"That's good. At least it shows she's feeling something, and not just lying in her bed like a log all day," answered Hermione.

Ron sat down against the tree, pulling Hermione down in front of him. She sat between his legs, resting her head against his chest. It was amazing how fast the two had clicked, and the physical closeness that already existed between them. Though really it wasn't, considering that this relationship had been in the works for seven years already.

"I'm so worried about her, but I guess she'll be better now," Ron admitted.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. Something happened that night, when we couldn't find her. I don't know what, but I'll bet it was something to do with Michael," said Hermione, taking Ron's hand and prying his fingers from where they were digging into the palm of his hand. Any time anyone mentioned the name "Michael", Ron had the same reaction. Fist clenching, teeth grinding, knuckle cracking, the usual things one does when one is getting ready to beat someone to a bloody pulp.

"Why would you think that?" asked Ron, livid at the idea that Michael had something to do with Ginny's behavior. His fingers found their way into his palms again.

"Well, do the math, Ron. We couldn't find her, we couldn't find him, and they haven't spoken a word since. Don't you find it odd that two people who were so inseparable for almost three months would abruptly stop speaking with each other for no obvious reason?"

"So, what do you think happened?" he queried.

"I don't know, but something bad, Ron. Something bad."

Meanwhile, back inside, Harry held the sleeping form of Ginny in his arms. He was leaning back against the headboard of her bed, Ginny next to him with her head resting against his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck.

He looked down at her and sighed. _What am I going to do about this?_ He pondered the question, and all the possible options. There was no doubt in his mind that he would find Michael and beat the crap out of him, but what about telling the rest of her family? Would she tell them? Would she want _him_ to? Somehow, he wasn't too keen on telling six men, all brawnier and taller than himself, that their little sister had gotten raped. It wouldn't matter if he wasn't the one who'd done it, he would inevitably be the bearer of bad news.

Ginny stirred slightly, and he glanced down at her. She had changed a lot since the little girl he knew when she first started going to Hogwarts. Not only in appearances, but on the inside as well. When he had first started to get to know her in his second year, she was a fragile young thing, with really no mind of her own, relying mostly on what other people told her to do. The incident with Tom Riddle, in her first year, didn't make her weaker and more fragile, as had been expected. On the contrary, it had strengthened her, made her more independent. After that terror-filled night in the Chamber, she would let no one take advantage of her, and she seemed to grow up a great deal after that year.

Appearances were a different story. He had noticed the changes in her, but tried to stop thinking about them, for fear of Ron or one of her other brothers finding out what he was thinking about. Her hair had grown to her waist by her fifth year, but in the beginning of her sixth, she had cut it to her shoulders. Her complexion remained much the same as it had been when he first met her, milky white with tiny freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. She had got quite a bit curvier, something that hadn't escaped his attention, though he hadn't wanted to elaborate on that aspect of her appearance too much. Thanks once again, to the ever present threat of the Weasley men.

"Oh, Ginny," he whispered. "Why would anyone want to do this to you? You're the closest thing to perfection I know, who would want to destroy that?"

"Michael would," she answered. He jumped, unaware that she'd been awake and listening to him.

"I thought you were sleeping," he replied, as she pulled herself up to lean on one elbow, facing him.

"I was, but I had a nightmare again. I keep remembering every single detail about that night, and I just can't get it out of my head," she said, looking slightly disconcerted at having been so open with Harry.

"Have you told anyone about this besides me?" he asked, hoping against hope that she had, and he wouldn't have to tell her family.

"No," she answered quietly, looking down. "I was afraid to, afraid they'd say I brought it on myself or something. But I didn't, Harry, I tried to stop him — "

Harry cut her off by placing his thumb and forefinger against her chin and lifting her head up. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, and he wiped it away with his other hand.

"I know, Ginny, you don't have to tell me. Nobody deserves what happened to you, and there's no doubt in my mind that you didn't bring it on yourself. I know you tried to stop him, you're too strong-willed not to. Don't cry, love, it'll be okay now."

She smiled weakly at him, lulling down. "I hope so, Harry. I don't want to feel like this anymore. I feel so helpless, and frightened. Like there's nothing I can to do make this better."

"Well, you don't have to do anything. _I'll_ make it better, Gin. I promise."

She buried her face in his chest once more, wanting to make certain that this was real. She had always dreamed of being rescued by a knight in shining armor. The Chamber was her first experience with being the damsel in distress. But she could never have predicted that she would have needed to be saved from something like _this_. But it was real — she felt Harry's hands comb gently through her hair and she heard his heartbeat through the thin cotton of his shirt. She knew, she just _knew_ that this was real.

Later that evening after Ginny had again fallen asleep, Harry gently maneuvered her from underneath his arm and got up. He walked to the door, and looked back once, before walking up the stairs. He had no intentions on revealing Ginny's secret, but he did want to talk to Ron. When he reached the door bearing the infamous 'Ronald's Room' plaque, he stopped. There were _sounds_ coming from inside Ron's room. He wasn't sure what was going on in there, but it sounded as if Ron was in some kind of danger.

He pushed open the door suddenly, without warning, and was rendered speechless. Hermione was on Ron's bed, half-naked, and Ron, from the looks of it was clothed in nothing, but had the good grace to grab a blanket before Harry could catch sight of anything that he'd rather not catch sight of.

"AHHHHHH!" Harry screamed. "I'm blind, my eyes!" he yelled, frantically trying to keep his hands over his eyes and find the way out as well. The only thing he succeeded in doing was knocking over quite a bit of Ron's Chudley Cannon's knicknacks and a lamp.

"Oh, honestly, Harry, a bit dramatic, aren't we?" said Hermione, her cheeks ablaze. She scrambled for the sheet and pulled it over herself.

"Dramatic? _Dramatic?_ I find my two best friends snogging right in front of my nose and you call me _dramatic_?"

"Um . . . something you wanted, Harry?" muttered Ron from his place on the floor, where he'd landed when Harry opened the door. His cheeks were exactly the same shade as Hermione's, possibly brighter.

"No, thanks. I think I'll just go now," he mumbled, finally finding the door. An amazing fear, considering that his hands had been placed firmly over his eyes once he'd picked the lamp up.

When he was finally clear of the sounds once more emanating from 'Ronald's Room' (which was not until he reached the pond) he felt like being sick. _That was just plain indecent,_ he thought disgustedly. He'd always known Ron and Hermione were going to get together, in fact, he'd been the only one Hermione had told her true feelings about Ron to. Ron had never told him how he felt about Hermione, but Harry knew. Ever since third year, the whole school had known. Bets had been circulating for ages! Even Ron's brothers and parents knew it, so it was completely lost on Harry why Ron was the only one who didn't know what he himself felt. Still, even though he'd always known they would end up together, there was really no need for him to witness _that!_ And without any warning, either . . . _hmpf_.

He groaned, leaning his head against the willow tree and slumping down to the ground. Despite it being summer, there was still a slight breeze coming from the pond, and Harry was glad he'd brought his jacket as the sun sank below the horizon. Since he was finally by himself, he let his thoughts run free for the first time in a long time.

Naturally, the first thing that came to his mind was Ginny. Not so much Ginny as what he'd like to do to Michael Corner. Well, let's see. First his ever-loving face, he'd have to punch him several times there, possibly more than several. Then his stomach, oh, that would be recreation. Then, maybe he'd knee him a bit lower than his stomach . . . Harry thought these things without even the slightest feeling of remorse. Michael really did deserve anything he got.

And then of course, after Harry, it would be the Weasleys' turn. Every single one of them, one at a time. First Bill, then Charlie, then . . . well, Percy probably wouldn't even hear about this. But if he did, Harry was sure that he couldn't feign indifference. Then there was Fred and George, who could always be counted on if harm was needed. And Ron. Wow, Ron was surely going to be the worst of all Ginny's brother's, seeing as how close the two of them were. And Mr. Weasley would be, if possible, more furious than Ron. _Cool, _Harry thought. _This is gonna be fun!_

Before he could elaborate further on where and how many times he wanted to punch Michael, he saw a tiny figure walking toward him from the Burrow. When it got closer, he realized it was actually Ginny. He was surprised, Ron had said she hadn't even left her room since she got back from school. He immediately stood, waiting for her arrival.

"You okay?" he asked when she reached him.

"Fine, fine . . . I guess. I'm just not feeling all that well, that's all," she said quietly.

"Come here," he said gently, and she obeyed, moving closer. He pulled her so that her back was facing him, and his arms were wrapped around her waist. They stood like that for a while, looking out over the water. It wasn't until Ginny started shivering that Harry realized she probably hadn't been sleeping well and should get some rest. He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and placed it around hers. She looked back at him with a grateful smile, and pressed even closer against him.

"Don't you think we ought to be going back?" he asked warily, not at all sure that this nice Ginny would be staying for dinner. He understood the mood swings now at least. He couldn't blame her, being raped was certainly not an easy thing to go through.

"I guess . . . I think the others ought to know, Harry," she whispered fearfully. "I'm afraid to tell them. I think Mum suspects something like this, I mean, of course everyone knows something's wrong, but I think she really knows. What if they all just don't care or something even worse than that? What if they disown me? What if Michael finds out I've told and he comes back . . . "

Harry's face darkened at the mention of Michael. "Don't even worry about Michael doing anything more to you. And Ginny, the last thing your family's going to do is disown you. They know you, they love you! Do you really think that they'll think this was your fault? I don't think so. Don't worry so much, come on, I'll even come with you. Ready?"

"W — what? Now? But — "

"No 'buts', Gin. Let's go," he said, grabbing hold of her shoulders and turning her towards the house. He was sure to hold her gently, though. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

When they were about fifteen feet from the house, she turned around, trying to back out of it.

"I can't do this, Harry. Don't make me do this," she said, heading back toward the pond.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, but sooner or later, the truth will come out. Don't you want to be the one to tell your family what happened? Or would you rather they found it out from someone else?"

"Oh, Harry! You'd do that for me?" she asked joyfully, misunderstanding his message.

"Oh, no! Where do you think the phrase 'don't shoot the messenger' comes from?"

"What?"

"Never mind, it's a Muggle thing. But it means that only you can tell your family the truth, no one else," he said searching her eyes. He could easily tell how badly she wanted to let her family in on the truth.

"Okay!" she said, with rekindled bravery. "I'm ready."


	3. Revelations

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Revelations**_

The minute Ginny walked in the door, she felt very inclined to change her mind. Not only was she nauseous and fatigued, she just wanted to get this over and done with. And judging by the crowd gathered in the living room, that was not going to be even remotely possible. To begin with, everyone would be all excited to see her up and around, making such a fuss over her that she would never even get the chance to get a word in edgewise!

And once she actually told her mother and father, they would just coddle her, never let her leave the house! She loved them and all, but sometimes they were a bit overprotective. She couldn't blame them really, what with her being the only girl _and_ the youngest, but sometimes it was just a bit too much for her.

The only thing that kept her going was Harry's strong, sure hands on her back leading her over to where her immediate family was gathered. She hadn't been aware that her two older brothers were coming to visit that week, as well as Lauren and Riley. Lauren was Bill's wife, a fellow Gringott's worker, and Riley was Charlie's fiancé, a studier of ancient dragons. It was quite surreal, actually, how well they all matched.

Fred and George were huddled in a corner with their respective girlfriends, Angelina and Katie. It vaguely registered in Ginny's mind that Katie was George's fiancé now; they were set to be married late the following year, in December. Strangely, Hermione and Ron were missing from the little get-together. _Great, just what Mum needs,_ Ginny thought. _Two impending weddings, and now I have to drop this bomb on her._

The moment she walked in the room, all conversation stopped, and everyone turned their eyes to the doorway to see a tall, raven haired boy leading a very frightened redhead into the living room.

Before Ginny could get a sentence out of her mouth, however, Mrs. Weasley came running up to her, squeezing her into a bone-breaking embrace. "My baby . . . my baby," she kept saying over and over, rocking Ginny back and forth.

"Uh . . . Mum . . . 'your baby' can't breathe," croaked Ginny.

Molly quickly let her go, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "I'm so sorry, darling. Better now? Would you like something to eat? To drink?"

"Mum . . . I really need to talk to you. Alone," she added, motioning toward the kitchen.

"Of course, dear. Come on then," she smiled, beaming with pride.

Ginny turned to look at Harry who gave her a gentle push toward her mother and nodded his head. She gulped and followed her mother into the kitchen, grateful that her father had decided to stay behind in the living room.

When they were finally alone, Ginny decided it would be easiest for her to just screw up her courage and blurt it out. "I was raped," she mumbled hurriedly, glancing down at the floor, her cheeks flaming.

Molly froze in her tracks. The frying pan that she'd been levitating toward the stove clattered to the floor with a deafening crash - or so it seemed to Ginny, anyway. Any little sound was magnified to a hundred times its regular decibel level in the silence that followed her statement. "Oh . . . " her mother gasped, clutching onto the back of a wooden chair for support. Abruptly, however, she let go and fainted.

"Mum? Mum?" Ginny yelled. She bent down beside her still mother and began frantically shaking her, an expression of mingled guilt, worry, and fear on her pale face.

The kitchen door swung open, revealing Arthur's worried face. He'd heard Ginny's yell from the living room, as had everyone. "Ginny? Ginny dear, what happened?" he asked in a rush, bending down to Molly and gently shaking her, while trying to pry Ginny's hands from her shoulders. He looked over at Ginny and noticed that tears were streaking down her cheeks. "Ginny, what's wrong darling? What's happened?"

She couldn't answer, just simply burst into sobs.

"Oh, dear," muttered Arthur. "Harry! Harry I think you'd better get in here!"

The door swung open once again, and this time Harry rushed into the kitchen scene. He took everything in: Ginny in the corner, bawling her eyes out, and Arthur shaking the prostrate form of Molly. He looked at Mr. Weasley, not sure what he wanted him to do, and Arthur impatiently nodded toward Ginny.

Harry walked over to where Ginny was sitting against the cabinets, knees drawn up to her chest and tears staining her cheeks. "What happened, love?" he asked quietly. He was kneeling beside her, their foreheads nearly touching. He ran his fingers tenderly through her hair, an action that always seemed to have a soothing effect on her.

Ginny didn't answer, but her tears started to flow even harder and faster. Harry didn't push the issue, he knew better. Talking no further, he extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and she stood, looking up at him gratefully. However, she looked once more toward her mother laying prone on the floor and her eyes rolled back into her head. The stress and pressure was all too much for her, and she collapsed, letting the blackness flood her mind.

Harry reacted quickly, grabbing her around the waist before she hit the floor. He put one arm behind her knees and kept the other round her waist, swinging her up off the floor. Ginny's arms lolled helplessly at her sides. Harry again looked to Arthur, silently inquiring as to what he should do now. Mr. Weasley nodded toward the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was currently fluttering her eyelids, and moving quite a bit more. Harry was glad to know that she'd be all right.

Harry glanced at Ginny's pale face worriedly. He could tell just by looking at her that the stress was getting to be too much. There was just so much in her life that a normal seventeen year old would never have to deal with. From the very first time she'd met him, she had been in danger, as had everyone Harry knew.

In her first year, there had been the Riddle thing. In second year, she had to deal with her brother almost being killed. In her third, there was the Triwizard Tournament, which didn't put her in danger so much as she had to watch those she loved go through the whole catastrophe. Fourth year was the real turning point for her; she had definitely grown a lot during that year. She was one of the many involved in the DA, and as always, closely involved in the adventures of the famous trio that year. She had been a part of the whole Department of Mysteries tragedy, which had almost cost her her life numerous times.

Her fifth year was most likely the one she would always remember, as it was the year Lord Voldemort was defeated by Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It'd been at the cost of many lives, Dean Thomas and Professor Dumbledore's included. Dean Thomas had been the only Gryffindor to lose his life fighting the battle, and was severely mourned by many, especially Ginny. And then, to top it all off, she had gotten raped in sixth year. _Seriously,_ thought Harry, _Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in the Wizarding World?_

Harry gave a slight shake of his head, dismissing the negative thoughts from his mind. When he reached Ginny's room, he pushed the door open with his foot, and almost threw up for the second time that night.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled, accidentally dropping Ginny to the floor. That woke her, and she sat up, rubbing her shoulder where she'd struck the desk on the way down. She shook her head, still woozy.

"What the hell?" she mumbled confusedly.

Harry didn't notice her perplexity, however, as he was too busy stumbling out the door yet again. Only when Ginny gingerly got to her feet and turned around did she see why Harry had run out the door. "Oh, shit," she said.

"Nice reaction, really, Gin," growled Ron.

The only difference from the scene Harry had witnessed before was that this time Hermione was on the floor, crumpled up clothing and sheets wrapped around her bare body.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for the both of you. It just means I lost the bet, is all."

"Bet? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Ron angrily.

"Haven't you heard by now? The whole of Gryffindor was taking bets as to when you were going to get it through your impossibly thick head that Hermione liked you, and you liked her. I bet not until you were at least 20. And by the way, next time you decide to act out seven years of sexual tension, kindly find a place other than my _bed_ to do it."

"Very nice of you, Gin. When did you come out of your hole, then?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I wasn't 'in a hole', Hermione, I just wasn't feeling well," she answered quickly.

Before Hermione could reply, however, Ginny clutched at her stomach, and grabbed onto the desk for support.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you okay?" asked Hermione, but Ginny didn't reply. She rushed out the door, still clutching her stomach tightly.

She met up with Harry, who was just coming out of the bathroom, but before he could get in a word to her, she pushed him aside. She just made it to the floor in front of the toilet before she vomited. Harry turned back around, and without being asked held back Ginny's shoulder length locks as she continued to vomit. There was no question as to whether or not he would leave her alone, he just couldn't.

When she finally sat up, there were tears pouring from her eyes, and her face was sweaty and clammy.

"Harry . . . d'you think . . . do you think I'm pregnant?" she whispered. It was plainly obvious to Harry that the thought hadn't just occurred to her — she must have been thinking about it for some time.

That particular thought hadn't occurred to him, but when she brought it up it hit him like a ton of bricks. If she was (and he was damn sure she was, what else would cause her to feel tired, sick, _and_ faint all of a sudden?) than what was she going to do? Certainly, she couldn't raise a child by herself, and Mrs. Weasley had enough to worry about. She cared for Bill and Lauren's three children all week, and she wasn't all that young anymore. She wouldn't be able to handle an infant, added to the three she already had. And Ginny would need someone to watch the baby when she went back to school.

Then, realization dawned on him . . . he looked across at Ginny, who currently had her head buried in the toilet again, and he _knew, _he just knew, that he, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived was in love . . . with Ginny Weasley. It flashed through his mind that if he was realizing this then, when she was in a most unflattering position, than how could he not love her? One does not generally declare their undying love to someone while that someone is puking their brains out, however. It was just a rule of thumb. _You prat, don't tell her at all!_ A voice inside his head screamed. _She was just raped, do you think she has much trust in the male population at the moment? Wait . . . just wait, and it will happen if it's meant to happen._

Finally, when Ginny felt a bit better, she raised her head. Harry was staring at her; well, she had expected this. But what she hadn't expected was the emotions she could see swirling beneath the exterior. Not utter revulsion and disgust, as she thought it would be. But with, _dare she think it . . . _something akin to love. She could have sworn she saw a thin layer of mist appear in his eyes, but she blinked and he was back to normal. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"I — I just don't like to see you like this, Gin, that's all," he answered embarrassedly. "You've been through so much already, you really don't need this stress."

"Harry," she whispered. "What if . . . what if I am pregnant?"

She sat back, slumping against the bathtub, and waited for his answer. She guessed that somewhere in her conscious, she was expecting Harry to make things right, to make them better than they currently were. He'd always been there for her, all through her years at school, and she automatically turned to him when things went wrong.

"Um . . . " he stuttered awkwardly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems, you have enough on your plate as it is," she said quickly, and stood up. It wasn't until she stood that she realized the mistake she had made. Her head swam dizzily, and she saw the floor looming up in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, fully expecting to feel her face crack into the marble floor, but instead she landed on something quite soft. She looked up to see Harry's concerned face gazing down at her.

She couldn't say anything. It seemed that once more emotion replaced logic, and she quite suddenly buried her face in his neck and felt hot tears seep from the corners of her eyes. "God, I really need to stop doing this," she mumbled against his skin.

He shuddered at the contact of her lips against his neck, but didn't say a word. He knew that if he made a move too soon, he'd push her even further away than she already was, which could prove to be a _very_ dangerous thing.

He rubbed her back soothingly, and said, "Ginny, if you're pregnant, you won't have to go through this alone, I promise. I'll be there for you every step of the way, even if you're not — you know, going to have a baby."

She pulled away and looked into his emerald green eyes. "Do you mean that, Harry?" she asked softly, wisely. "Are you ready for the responsibility of a child? If there is a child, that is."

"What do you mean, Gin? Of course I'll be there, how could I not be? Look," he said, waving his hand in the air as if to clear the troubling thoughts. "You don't even know if you're pregnant yet. Why don't you just do the charm?"

She sighed. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm afraid of the answer."

"Don't be, love. Whatever it says, you'll have a family that loves you . . . and you'll have me, of course," he replied confidently.

"Okay," she sighed, reaching for her wand in her back pocket, only to realize that she didn't have it. _Shit_, she cursed silently. She had promised herself that after what had happened, she would _always_ carry her wand with her, wherever she went.

Harry, noticing her angry expression, reached into his pocket and slipped his wand out. He hesitantly handed it to her, not sure if she'd hug him or beat him for the gesture. She took the wand, expressionless, and lifted her shirt to bare her midriff. A faint pink color appeared on her cheeks. Harry, on his part, couldn't help but notice the milky whiteness of the skin on her stomach, but quickly averted his eyes before she realized he was staring.

"Okay, here goes nothing . . . " she said, and pointed the wand to her stomach.

She muttered the charm and a flash of light shot from the tip of Harry's wand into the air, blinding the both of them.

"Bloody hell!" Harry yelled, before the world was lost to the both of them.


	4. It's True

_**Chapter 4**_

_**It's True**_

Harry cautiously opened his eyes, grateful to discover that the blinding light from before was not present. He looked around to see where Ginny was, and only then realized that he was not in the Burrow's upstairs bathroom anymore. He looked around, befuddled, and saw the brilliant red sun sinking below the horizon over the lake that he knew was outside the Burrow. The only problem was that he was positive the sun had set over an hour ago, and it didn't make sense that it would set again. _I couldn't have been out for that long!_ he thought.

He turned and looked around for Ginny, and spotted her carrot-top lying on the ground a little ways away from where he was standing. He rushed over to her, but before he could reach her, she sat up, blinking groggily.

"What the . . . " she mumbled, rubbing her eyes, and looking around like Harry had a few seconds previously.

"Gin . . . now don't panic, but I think something went wrong with the charm you did," Harry told her, trying to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible.

"I'm not daft, Harry, I know how to cast a simple — " she was cut off, however by the sound of a laugh in the distance, approaching their direction.

Before the two of them could find a hiding spot, two figures, one considerably shorter and holding what looked to be a bundle of blankets, came walking up the hill from the house. Harry and Ginny froze. They didn't even know where they were, or _when_ they were for that matter, and they really were not in the mood to be confronted by any of Ginny's family members.

They weren't kept waiting for long to find out who the two walking toward them were. As the glare from the sun receded enough for Harry and Ginny to see the people's faces, they saw a head of flaming red hair (not that unusual, as they were at the _Burrow_, after all) and another of jet black.

"I — I — " Ginny croaked, but that was all she managed to get out. For the two people they saw in front of them, were in fact . . . _them._

The Harry and Ginny holding the blankets didn't seem to notice the other pair. In fact, they walked right through them without even batting an eyelash. As they walked past, however, the invisible Harry and Ginny realized that the bundle of white blankets was in fact a child, but they couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. They continued to walk to a large tree by the lake, while the invisible pair stayed where they were, stunned into silence.

Harry and Ginny with the child, stopped under the tree, the sun casting mysterious shadows across their faces. The other Harry and Ginny stood, transfixed, exactly where they'd landed as Ginny handed the baby over to Harry, who in turn positioned the baby under one arm and draped the other across Ginny's waist. He leaned down, and Ginny turned her head to look at him to hear what he was apparently going to say. But instead of saying anything, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

Meanwhile, the other Ginny, the one who now knew that she _was_ indeed pregnant had tears streaming down her face. But for once . . . once in over a month's time, these were tears caused by happiness, and not sadness.

The blinding light overtook the two of them again, and they found themselves on the floor of the Burrow bathroom, back where they'd begun.

"I guess you got your answer, then," whispered Harry, unsure of what she'd thought of the episode they had just witnessed.

"I did," she said softly, and stepped closer to him. "I certainly did," she repeated and leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips.

Though at first a little shaken by the kiss, Harry returned it eagerly. When they broke away from each other, solely for the need to breathe, Harry looked down at Ginny, love shining in his eyes. Likewise, Ginny looked up at him and smiled. She gently reached for his hand and placed it across her stomach.

"I know it sounds strange, Harry, but . . . now that I know for sure, I can feel the life inside me. Can you feel it?" she asked quietly, gazing deep into his eyes.

Concentrating very hard, as though he could maybe feel some sort of movement from within, Harry realized that it was impossible. But he _could_ feel a sort of energy, a life force to Ginny that he hadn't ever felt before. The thing about pregnant women and their certain "glow" was the only thing that came to mind that could explain. "Yeah . . . yeah, I reckon I can," he answered seriously.

"HARRY BLOODY POTTER, GET YOUR SORRY ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

Harry started from his thoughts of a glowing Ginny and looked down, fear in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Harry. What's the worst that could happen? We just tell her and get it over with. I don't know why Mum's mad at you, though, but I'm sure this will all be taken care of in no time," she tried to reassure him, but it had no effect on him whatsoever. The only thing that penetrated his brain at the moment was the image of Mrs. Weasley and a group of six angry men, all aiming their wands at him.

"I'd better get down there . . . " he trailed off, knowing there was nothing else to say. It felt like going to his own execution. "Your Mum thinks I did it to you, Gin, I know she does."

"What! That's rubbish! You saved me, you didn't hurt me!"

"I know that, and you know that . . . but do _they_ know that?" he asked.

"HARRY! GINNY!" bellowed the voice from downstairs again.

They bolted out the door, afraid that any more delay would further anger Mrs. Weasley.

As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Bill ran over to Ginny and yanked her from Harry's side before she could protest, and dragged her back up the stairs, kicking and screaming the whole way. A muffled groan of pain from Bill alluded to the fact that Ginny had very probably bit him at one point or another.

Harry looked to Ron in desperation. Apparently, he and Hermione had heard the commotion and decided to join the party. He was silently trying to convey the message that he hadn't been the one to hurt Ginny. How could he ever? He was slightly hurt by the fact that the Weasleys would even think him capable of something so horrible.

"I trusted you, mate," began Ron, walking ever closer to Harry. Swirls of sadness and anger exchanged places every few seconds in his eyes. "I let you come here every summer since second year, and this . . . _this_ is how you repay me? You rape my baby sister? You were my best friend, Harry . . . my best friend." He finished, and as he reached Harry, he let loose and punched him right in the face.

"Ohhhh," groaned Harry, bringing his hands to his now throbbing cheek. Ron went back to Hermione, shoving her behind him as if to protect her from what he thought to be his best friend turned vicious rapist.

Knowing that it had to be done, Harry found the courage to stand up tall, holding his head high. He looked into the eyes of every Weasley present. "I swear on my life that I had no part in what happened to Ginny. If you'd like me to tell you who _really_ did it, I'd be more than happy to, but please don't assume that I did something as horrid as that," he said cooly, trying not to wince at the pain still making itself known on his face.

"Who did it, then, Harry?" asked Hermione. She issued it forth as a sort of challenge. "And why haven't you told us anything before now?"

"I didn't tell any of you because I didn't know myself until today. And then, I wasn't going to betray Ginny by telling anyone before she was ready."

Slowly, one by one, Ginny's family's faces morphed from angry, seething masks, to apologetic, contrite ones.

"Harry . . . I — "

"Don't worry about it, Ron. I'll be fine. I know you only did it because you were mad about what happened to Ginny. I'd do the same thing if something like that happened to someone as close to me as she is to you," Harry assured Ron, who looked mortified at what he'd just done to his best friend.

Harry turned to the rest of the people congregated and said, "Before any of you apologize, I just want you to know that it's not necessary. I completely understand. I would have done the exact same thing had I been in your places, so just know that I don't hold any grudges."

A collective sigh of relief was heard around the room, but before anyone could remark, there was a thud from the direction of the stairs, and Bill came tumbling down them. Everyone looked to the top to see Ginny standing there, wand in hand, a look of triumph on her face.

"There. That'll teach you," she said, and walked down the stairs, stepping over Bill, who was currently sitting up and glaring at Ginny.

"Now, to the rest of you," she began, but Harry cut her off.

"They know it wasn't me. I haven't told them who it was . . . maybe you should be the one to do that," he said warily, glancing apprehensively at Ron's fist. He wasn't eager for it to make friends with his face again any time soon.

"Yeah . . . I suppose you're right. Um . . . it was Michael Corner. He did this to me the night before graduation. That's why none of you could find me. That's where I was." Before anyone could say a thing, she blurted, "I'm pregnant."

Silence. Thankfully, this time Mrs. Weasley didn't faint, but she did clutch Charlie's arm for support.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you," Ginny went on, tears flowing from her eyes now. "But there's something you should know. I will keep this baby," she said, growing more confident now, and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "All I know is that no matter how she was created this is my child, and I will care for her, because she is a part of me. She may be fathered by Michael, but that won't matter, because she will never be reminded of how she got here. She will be loved and cared for just like any other child, because she is mine."

By the time Ginny finished this, every woman in the room was past crying, they were bawling. The men looked on uncomfortably, not sure how to respond. Mrs. Weasley left Charlie's side and enveloped Ginny in a loving hug, full of support and understanding.

"I love you, Ginny. No matter what happens, know that. I love you and I always will."

"I love you too, Mum," she answered, tears once more leaking from the corners of her eyes.

She looked over her Mum's shoulder to see Harry watching her. "I love you," she mouthed silently.

"I love you, too," came his reply.


	5. Her, Too!

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Her, Too!**_

"You just can't understand, Hermione! You don't have any brothers or sisters, you're an only child!"

"Don't you think I bloody well know that? I know that I won't understand completely what you're going through, but I know that it wasn't your fault, Ron. It's not as if you went up to Michael and said, 'Here, mate, here's a few galleons, go and rape my sister!' You couldn't have done anything," she protested, trying valiantly to get him to believe that he wasn't to blame for what had happened to Ginny.

Ever since he'd found out, he had been convinced that it was all his fault, that only if he'd been a bit nicer to Ginny she would have been with him instead of Michael, talking or playing chess or something . . . anything, but she wouldn't have been with that bastard.

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you, it's just . . . I'm her big brother, her closest brother. It's the buddy system, you know? I'm supposed to keep her safe, and I let him destroy her. That, Hermione, that is failure."

He turned his head away, but Hermione still saw the crystal tears in his eyes. He was trying desperately to keep them from falling.

"Oh, Ron . . . I know it hurts to know you've failed someone. But you haven't failed _anyone!_ You know how Ginny looks up to you, and she knows that you never would have let him hurt her on purpose. Don't beat yourself up over this, it wasn't your decision to make whether Ginny should date him. Besides, it's been three weeks already since she told everyone about it, why haven't you said anything about this sooner? I had no idea that you blamed yourself in the slightest."

"Well . . . I knew you weren't feeling well and I didn't want to burden you with my problems," he said tentatively, knowing how she always took it when someone kept her in the dark about something because they didn't want to 'burden' her.

"I know, I really haven't been feeling well. I'm sick all the time, and _so_ tired. I'm sure I'll feel loads better after I see the Healer tonight though," she reassured him. "By the way, I'm going with Ginny when she goes to get her check-up, so we might be out a little late. We're going to stop and pick up something to eat on the way home. I haven't had a chance to talk with her in ages."

He looked at her strangely, sure that she was more sick than she let on. One look at her, and he wasn't sure if she should be going out to eat anywhere. Her face was pale and worried, and her eyes were bloodshot with bags encircling them, the effect of barely any sleep for a week. She was always in the bathroom all night, throwing up, but when Ron tried to help her, she always pushed him away.

"Come on, Hermione, let's go rest for a while," he said, obviously concerned for her health.

She sighed in defeat, not having enough strength to protest. He took her by the arm and gently led her to their room, where he pulled back the covers and carefully held her elbow as she lowered herself onto the bed heavily.

"Go on, Hermione, I know you're tired. Just sleep for a little while, I promise to wake you up in an hour," Ron pleaded, for Hermione refused to sleep during the daytime, insisting that she 'didn't need to'.

"Fine, Ron, but I won't fall asleep. I don't need to sleep. I'll just lay here for a while," she argued weakly, before letting out a massive yawn and laying her head down on the pillow. She was out before Ron shut the light and closed the door.

"Hi, Ron!" greeted Ginny exuberantly as she saw him exit his and Hermione's room.

"Hey, Gin. How you feeling?" asked Ron, glad that for the past three weeks, since everything had come out, she'd been considerably more cheerful. Granted, she was still dealing with a lot, but at least she wasn't in it alone anymore.

"Okay, I guess . . . still a bit sick, but hopefully the morning sickness will end soon."

"That's good. Hermione's going with you tonight to St. Mungo's?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've been trying to get her to see a Healer for weeks now, but she just wouldn't listen to me. Finally, she agreed, but only when I told her she could see the baby on the sonogram today."

"What does a Sono-Tram have to do with the baby? Bloody hell, you're not trying to send it to space, are you?" asked Ron, a confused look on his face. He had obviously mistook "sonogram" for "Sono-Tram", the Wizarding, well _tram, _that took some of the most adventurous Witches and Wizards into the solar system. Granted, they only went a bit beyond Earth, but still . . .

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the Sono-Tram, Ron. The Healer puts a wand or something on my stomach and you can see the baby on a little screen. They do it all the time in the Muggle world, but they only recently started it round here."

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. "Well, at least now I'm well informed that I won't have to be shooting _my _future children off into space every time we go to the Healer."

"A bit less than the future, Ronniekins," muttered Ginny under her breath, as she flounced away down the hall to the room she now shared with Harry. Ron still wasn't too keen on the idea that he and Ginny were 'official', but he supposed she could do a lot worse. Besides, he was actually getting used to the idea of Harry being part of the family . . . not yet, at least. He was sure Ginny didn't want to get married yet. Did she? _Whatever,_ thought Ron dismally. Now, the thought of Ginny and Harry wouldn't escape his mind. And really, he had much better things to think about — like babies riding the Sono-Tram.

"Come on, Hermione! Let's go, we're already ten minutes late!" screeched Ginny as she grabbed her coat from the hanger by the door.

"For Merlin's sake, Gin, I'm coming! You don't have to blast my eardrums out!"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of my _brother's_ bed this morning," teased Ginny as Hermione came down the stairs, likewise grabbing her coat. Hermione just looked at her superiorly, before walking out the door. A minute later, however, she came back in, water dripping from her hair and clothes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was raining before I went out there?" she growled.

"You didn't give me a chance . . . look, let's be nice for today. I can't wait to see the baby! It's going to be so sweet, seeing my child for the first time."

"Speaking of 'sweet' moments, why isn't Harry going with you instead of me?" asked Hermione, squeezing the water droplets from her hair.

"Because, Hermione, you're sick and you need to see someone about it. Don't pretend with me, I know you better than that. Even if you won't admit it to yourself, I know what's wrong with you." _Been there, done that_, she thought to herself with a smirk.

"Oh, yes? Well, what's your diagnosis then, Dr. Weasley?"

"Haven't you figured it out yourself by now? Okay, here's a hint. When was the last time you had your period?" asked Ginny, smiling brightly.

"W — what does that have to do with anything?" Hermione stuttered, beginning to see things the way Ginny must be.

"Think long and hard, Hermione. Think back . . . the day Harry arrived, what he walked in on . . . " she trailed off.

"Come off it, Gin, you don't think I'm . . . well, that I'm — "

"Yes, in fact, I do think that you are pregnant," said Ginny triumphantly.

"Oh no . . . oh no, Ron's going to kill me! But we . . . I mean, we were _careful_!"

"Sometimes it doesn't work, Herm. You must have read _somewhere_ that it's not always 100 effective."

Hermione rubbed her temples and said, "Ginny, how many times do I have to tell you, that is not my name, so please don't call me that, or any other such annoying nicknames."

"Fine, _Hermione_, let's just go then, and we'll find out sooner or later which one of us is right."

"Okay then, let's go," she agreed, and they both Apparated with a pop to a very cozy looking doctor's office within St. Mungo's. There were leather chairs placed around the room, and potted plants situated next to the doors. Next to the chairs were several tables cluttered with magazines such as **'What every witch needs to know about parenting'** and **'What _have _I gotten myself into?'**

Hermione took one look at the titles of these magazines and tried to make a break for the door.

"Oh no, I don't think so, you're staying right here until I say it's time to leave."

Just then, the door on the other side of the room opened to reveal a woman who couldn't be much older than Hermione, with sleek black hair tied into a bun at the top of her head. She was wearing a white overcoat with a brass name-tag that read . . . Cho Chang, Healer.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, it's time to leave," said Ginny, pushing Hermione toward the door.

"Ahh . . . revenge is sweet," mumbled Hermione. She grabbed Ginny's arm before she could reach the door.

"Hermione, is that you? And Ginny? Ginny Weasley?" greeted Cho happily, coming toward the two and embracing them both in a hug.

"Oh, yes, it's us . . . didn't know you became a Healer after Hogwarts," said Hermione brightly, forgetting for the moment the reason she was there in the first place.

"Yes, I decided against Quidditch after I got married and had my daughter. Thought it was a bit too risky, having a family and all. So what brings you two here anyway?"

"Well . . . it's me actually," said Ginny nervously. "I'm pregnant."

Cho's mouth dropped open in shock, and she ushered the two women into the examining room, seeing as how there was nobody else waiting to be seen.

"You're telling me that sweet, innocent Ginny Weasley got herself knocked up?"

"It's not what you think," defended Hermione, and she looked to Ginny expectantly to tell Cho what had happened.

She sighed and said softly, "I was raped. The day before graduation . . . um, it was Michael Corner . . . " she finished, not sure what else she was supposed to say. It seemed awkward for her to just blurt it out to what seemed like anyone and everyone. She figured it would be easier for her to buy a few minutes' time on a wireless station and announce it publicly.

"I always knew he was a bastard, that one," she said vehemently. "Well, anyway, I suppose you're here for a check-up, that right?"

"Yeah, and Hermione needs to be checked out as well. She's not been feeling well the past few weeks. I think she might — " Hermione clamped her hand over Ginny's mouth and smiled at Cho.

"Oh, Ginny just thinks she's quite the Healer these days, isn't that right, Ginny?" asked Hermione through clenched teeth and Ginny nodded her head vigorously, so as to get Hermione's hand off her mouth.

"Okay," said Cho awkwardly, and she glanced down at Ginny's medical record. "Ginny, why don't you undress and put that gown on over there, and I'll deal with Hermione after we're done with the sonogram."

"Sure," agreed Ginny, and Cho left the room, leaving a nervous Ginny and an angry Hermione behind.

"Why don't you tell the whole bloody world while you're at it?" whispered Hermione wrathfully. "She'll find out without you telling her!"

"Whatever you say, Hermione," shrugged Ginny, and she went into the bathroom adjacent to the examining room to change into the gown. When she came back out, she found Cho talking animatedly with Hermione about something, and she cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Good, you're ready, I see. Just lay back on this table, and we'll get started," said Cho as she pulled over a little screen on a cart with wheels, with a sort of wand looking thing attached to it with a wire.

"All right, just pull up the gown to about here," said Cho, lifting Ginny's gown to reveal her stomach. "Okay, I'm going to squirt this gel on your stomach now . . . it might be a bit cold," she warned.

She squeezed the bottle she was holding onto Ginny's stomach and a spurt of blue gel landed on it. Ginny gasped as goosepimples appeared on her flesh. Cold had been an understatement! Cho placed the wand on her stomach, turning a switch on the screen. All Ginny saw were squiggly black and white lines, but as Cho moved the wand around, a tiny white blob in the center became apparent.

Ginny felt tears come to her eyes as she asked, already knowing the answer. "Is that my baby?"

Cho pointed to the white spot on the screen and nodded. "Right there, yes, that's it."

Ginny reached out to the screen and put her finger on the spot as a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. "My baby . . . that's my child," she said softly.

"Would you like a picture to take home with you? I'm afraid it won't move like regular pictures would, but nevertheless, it's a good memory to keep," said Cho, as she switched off the monitor and handed Ginny a towel to wipe off her stomach.

"Sure . . . I'd love that."

"Okay, it'll print out in a moment. Hermione, why don't you go change into a gown as well, and we'll see what's going on with you."

Ten minutes later Hermione emerged from the same bathroom as Ginny had, to see Ginny sitting on the table, fully clothed again. She was gazing at the picture in her hands.

"That's the baby?" asked Hermione, as Ginny handed it to her.

"Yup . . . that's my daughter."

"A girl? You're having a girl?" asked a shocked Hermione, handing her back the photo.

Cho re-entered the room and said, "She's bloody well convinced that she is, but I keep telling her it's way too early to tell."

"Oh," said Hermione, as she nudged Ginny off the table so she could get on.

Ginny went and sat on the chair by the door, still gazing silently at the picture as Hermione sat on the table.

Cho drew out a regular Wizard wand, and scrutinized Hermione for a moment, before muttering a charm that caused a white light to envelop Hermione's stomach. "Ah . . . I thought as much," said Cho sagely. "Hermione . . . when was the last time you had sex?"

"Uh . . . er . . . around three weeks ago, I suppose, almost a month. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I'm afraid it has everything to do with why you're here."

"Surely I'm not . . . "

"You are, Hermione. You're pregnant. Congratulations!"


	6. Attack

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Attack**_

"This is wonderful, just bloody wonderful, isn't it?" asked Hermione sarcastically, shoveling another bite of hamburger into her mouth.

"Calm down, Hermione," soothed Ginny with a worried look on her face; Hermione wasn't taking the news about the baby very well at all. Certainly not as well as had been expected.

"Calm down? Calm down? That's all you can say? Ron is absolutely going to kill me when he finds out about this. I told him that the charm I did was 100 effective. I never thought that we would be the 3 that's not!" she whined, plopping her fork down on the table and dropping her head into her hands.

"He won't kill you Hermione . . . he loves you! He'll understand. Besides, what makes you think he won't want this baby? You guys are old enough to get married and have a baby. I don't know what _you're_ complaining about, at least you have a father for your kid," said Ginny, beginning to feel a bit of guilt for keeping her baby, and raising it fatherless.

"I'm sorry, Gin . . . I suppose I do have it pretty good. I'm just scared of how Ron's going to react, that's all," sighed Hermione. "I just never thought we'd do this so _soon._ Okay, enough of this depressing nonsense. Let's get down to business. You and Harry, hmmm?" asked Hermione in a very girlish tone of voice. It sounded strange coming from Hermione's mouth.

"Yeah . . . I guess. I just don't know what he wants from me. I mean, _hello_, pregnant seventeen year old here, with no father for her child! Don't you think it screams, very loudly, that I'm just using him?"

"Come on, now, you can't _really_ think that it would even cross anyone's mind! You've known him for years, you know he'll be there for you," Hermione said, glancing out the window. "Come on, Ginny, I think we'd better be going. It's getting dark out."

The girls stood, preparing to leave, when none other than the silver-haired ferret from their days at Hogwarts entered with the usual slutty girl they were accustomed to seeing him with.

"Malfoy?" muttered Ginny confusedly. "What would he be doing in a Muggle diner like this?"

"Who cares? Let's just go . . . " but Hermione trailed off when she saw Malfoy lean over and whisper something in the girl's ear, something that apparently caused her to turn and look at the two of them.

"Oh, now it's on, Malfoy," said Hermione, stalking over to his table, leaving Ginny behind, a slight smile crossing her face.

"Sorry, 'Mione . . . forgot to mention the mood swings," said Ginny, a smirk beginning to form on her face as she watched a very befuddled Draco be told off by a _very_ angry, hormonal Hermione.

Ginny walked over to the door, holding it open for Hermione as she exited, her face flushed, but a glorious expression on her face.

"Do you know how _good_ that felt? I've been waiting to do that my whole life, and bloody hell, it was well worth the wait!"

"Hermione!" Ginny admonished in a mock reprimanding tone. "Watch your mouth! But it _was_ pretty fun to watch."

Later that evening, Hermione sat at the old wooden table in the kitchen with a cup of tea, contemplating whether or not she should tell Mrs. Weasley before she told Ron. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry and Ginny sneak out the door, one of Harry's hands placed reassuringly on the small of Ginny's back. _They're so perfect for each other_ . . . thought Hermione, as she sighed at the sight of young love.

Before she could get any sappier, she heard a rumble of thunder in the distance, and knew why Harry had brought Ginny outside. Ginny absolutely _loved_ thunderstorms, and Harry must've heard the thunder before she had. Where is Mrs. Weasley when you need her? She would've given them a good talking to about sneaking off in storms. Where was anyone for that matter? Oh yes, that's right. Wedding planning at George and Katie's.

"I'll have to have a talk with that boy. Honestly, just because she likes a bit of thunder doesn't give him the excuse to bring her outside in a storm! She's pregnant now, he ought to be a bit more careful," she muttered, getting up from the table and walking over to the sink.

"Wouldn't happen to be talking about me, are we?"

Hermione dropped the tea cup she was holding, and it shattered on the hard wooden surface of the floor. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, trying desperately to keep her fear from showing. What was he doing at the _Burrow_ of all places, anyway? The seeming randomness of the whole thing was just another thing that contributed to the pounding of Hermione's heart beneath her rib cage.

"What do I always want, Granger? Revenge," he answered coldly, coming casually closer to her every second.

"Ron'll kill you, and you know it. Don't you dare come a step closer!" she screeched, reaching for her wand in her back pocket.

"Looking for this?" he laughed cruelly, pulling her wand from inside his robes. He now had her backed up against the stove, wandless, and she couldn't help but lose control of the trembling that was overcoming her. "Doesn't look like your precious Weasel is here to protect you now, does it?"

"Malfoy, don't hurt me. You can't, I'm — I'm pregnant," she pleaded, hating her halting, stuttering tone of voice. He finally reached her, trailing his cold fingers across her stomach. She was revolted at his touch, and she tried to get past him, but he blocked her.

"Awww, a little Weaselby. How cute. I don't think so, baby," he whispered as Hermione tried once again to push past him. He pointed her own wand at her stomach. "Let's see how Little Miss Perfect reacts to the loss of her _child_," he spat out the word as if it were filth tainting his mouth.

Thinking quickly, Hermione glanced behind her and saw a frying pan sitting on the stove.

"Hmmm . . . let me think on that a moment," stalled Hermione, cleverly reaching behind her for the pan. She finally felt her hand come in contact with the cold metal, and she grasped it. "No," she answered, and brought the hand holding the pan from behind her back, smashing him hard over top his head.

"_Avada Kedav_ — " A pool of sinister looking green light had gathered at the end of Malfoy's wand, ready to complete its mission. It actually came into slight contact with Hermione's stomach, given their close proximity. She shuddered at the limp feeling suddenly roiling through her body.

But she had hit him seconds before he could finish the curse. He looked at her in shock before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground. Hesitantly, she grabbed her wand from where it was held limply in his hand and cast a body-bind on him, before stepping out into the now pouring rain, calling shrilly for Harry and Ginny. A few seconds later, she saw them in the distance, running towards the house hand in hand.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" panted Harry as they reached her.

"I — It's Malfoy, h — he attacked me . . . " she stuttered, the cold and shock finally catching up to her.

"What do you mean 'attacked' you? Hermione, the baby . . . is the baby okay?" asked Ginny, worry evident in her face and tone.

"Baby? Baby? Hermione, you're pregnant!" asked Harry joyfully.

"Harry? Not the time," said Ginny quietly, as she gently took Hermione by the shoulders and led her past Malfoy's bound body and into the living room, setting her down on the couch.

She walked back into the kitchen to see Harry kneeling beside Malfoy, apparently having some sort of conversation with him.

"Harry . . . d'you think you could do something with him, maybe take him somewhere or something?" asked Ginny. "Just get him out of here."

"Yeah, sure. So, Hermione's pregnant, huh?"

"Uh-huh. We found out just a little while ago, when she came with me to St. Mungo's. By the way, you'll never guess who our doctor was," said Ginny mischievously.

"Who? Never mind, you can tell me later. I'm gonna Apparate Malfoy somewhere . . . somewhere quite cold and rainy, actually," said Harry gleefully.

"Have fun," said Ginny, giving him a quick peck on the lips before heading back to the living room to talk to Hermione.

"Hey, you okay?" Ginny asked as she walked back into the living room, sitting down on the sofa opposite Hermione.

"I don't know," Hermione answered, placing one hand gently on her stomach. She closed her eyes, remembering everything that had happened. "He was about to do the Killing Curse, directly at my stomach . . . He had just about done it, too, only needed to pronounce the 'a.' It touched my stomach. I don't know what kind of effect that would have — if any. I think . . . umm . . . I think I'd better get to St. Mungo's right away, in any case." Hermione's face paled as she felt a cramp shoot through her abdomen.

"All right, Hermione, everything's going to be just fine. Come on, let's go and find Ron," Ginny spoke the words surprisingly calm and soothingly. Hermione stood up and Ginny tensed as she saw the small spot of blood that had been left behind on the couch. "It's going to be just fine."


	7. The Aftermath

_**Chapter 7**_

_**The Aftermath**_

"How many _times_ do I have to tell you this, Miss Weasley? Healer Chang will be here momentarily."

"Yeah, you said that many "moments" ago!" Ginny growled angrily to the receptionist on the Labor and Delivery/Maternity ward of St. Mungo's. It was quite a comforting atmosphere, decorated in all shades of blues and pinks, with a few greens and yellows mixed in for good measure. One end was dedicated completely to rooms and operating theaters where the actual births took place — these had a rather sterile feel to them. But the other end was much more hospitable; it housed the rooms where mothers went after the birth to recuperate. Those rooms were much more comfortable, in Ginny's opinion. She would know, as she had spent the last twenty minutes pacing down the hallways, glancing in all the rooms just out of curiosity.

Receiving no further answer from the old woman at the desk, Ginny huffed away in anger, fully intent upon making another adventure out of pacing. Hermione had been taken into one of the sterile-like rooms upon first getting there, but Ginny had been told firmly to wait in the waiting area.

Before she could start pacing, however, a cry of "Ginny!" in a very familiar voice stopped her from making it even two seconds down the hall. She turned round to see Harry sprinting toward her, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

He finally reached her, panting and clutching at a stitch in his side. "Only just got here — came as soon as I read — Malfoy in Antarctica — " On her way out with Hermione, Ginny had hastily scrawled an explanation on a piece of parchment, urging anyone who read it to come to St. Mungo's as quickly as possible.

"Breathe, please, Harry, you won't be of much help if you've asphyxiated right in front of my eyes," Ginny mumbled distractedly, squeezing the bridge of her nose to help the dull pain that had started forming in her head.

With what seemed to be a great deal of effort, Harry forced some air in and out of his lungs. Eventually, his breathing returned to normal and he was able to provide some real conversation. "So what exactly happened? The last I saw she was fine, sitting on the couch . . . that was when I left with Malfoy."

With a withering glance at the old receptionist, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and led him to one of the chairs in the waiting area. "Well, you know that Malfoy attacked her." Harry nodded. "Apparently, he was using the Killing Curse, pointed right at her stomach. He only just missed finishing it, she smashed him over the head with a frying pan. But he was _almost_ finished, and it grazed her stomach — she was bleeding, and I suspect she was cramping as well."

"Sweet Merlin," Harry mumbled under his breath. To only just find out a few hours before that Hermione was pregnant, and now, he was finding out — well, nothing really. "So what's wrong then, Gin? Did she — I mean, is she still — "

"I don't know a bloody thing!" Ginny burst out with, earning herself and Harry a reproachful glare from the Reception Hag, as Ginny had come to refer to her in her head.

"Well, the Healer you saw, isn't he — "

"She. Cho's on her way," Ginny explained.

The name "Cho" didn't even register in Harry's mind, so preoccupied with the current situation was he. "What can I do? I must be able to do something to help," Harry asked.

"Ron! Oh, my God, Ron doesn't know!" Ginny slapped her forehead quite hard, as it left a blotchy red mark after only a few seconds. "You have to go to George and Katie's and let him know. It's going to be pretty impossible to tell him and _only_ him, so you might as well fill the whole gang in."

"All right," Harry agreed. He kissed Ginny quickly before standing and Apparating quickly to his destination.

Ginny let her eyes wander once more to Reception Hag. She realized that the woman was staring at the spot where Harry had been two seconds earlier with widened eyes. "Yes, that was Harry Potter." Ginny boasted to Hag. "He's my boyfriend, you know. Now how about some of that information?"

Harry Apparated quickly to George and Katie's flat, searching the sea of red heads for Ron. He spotted his friend sitting on the couch uncomfortably as Katie kept her wand trained on him while flicking through what looked to be a Muggle bride magazine. Every once in a while, Katie would flick her wand and Ron's clothes would turn into splendid looking Muggle wedding clothes.

He spotted Harry, and gave him a grateful look before excusing himself from Katie, who looked slightly annoyed at the interruption. Ron hurried over to where Harry was standing, looking eternally grateful at the prospect of escaping the wedding preparations. "Hey, Harry, what's up?"

Harry felt sick at what he was about to tell Ron. Ron seemed to sense that something was wrong. "Harry? Come on, mate, what's going on? Did something happen to Ginny?"

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, Harry said, "Not Ginny."

"Who then?" Looking around, Ron said, "Pretty much everyone's here except for . . . Charlie?" Harry shook his head. "Bill?" _Shake_. "Tonks?" _Shake_. "Riley?" _Shake_. By now, Ron was running out of guesses. It was clear that he was trying not to believe the conclusion that was forming in his brain. "Not — Not Hermione, Harry?"

No shake this time. "Bloody hell, what happened? Is she alive? Is she okay? Where is she? Is Ginny with her?"

Ron's voice had risen considerably and thus had drawn the attention of everyone in the living room. "Ron, darling, what's going on?" Molly's concerned voice floated into the hallway.

Harry grabbed hold of Ron's arm and dragged him into the living room where everyone else was. "Right, most everyone's here — umm, the lot of you don't know yet, seeing as how she only just found out a little while ago, but umm — "

"Do spit it out, Harry, dear," Molly admonished gently. The wedding plans obviously were putting quite a stress on her, seeing as how she'd never spoken a word of reprimand toward Harry in the entire time she'd known him — not counting the misunderstanding that had occurred when he'd first arrived at the Burrow a few weeks earlier.

"Right then — Hermione's-pregnant-was-attacked-by-Malfoy-now-in-St.-Mungo's-we-don't know-if-she-and-the-baby-are-all-right-or-not."

Complete silence followed his one sentence explanation of the evening's events. Then, without a word, the Weasleys started disappearing, one by one. Harry knew that they were Apparating straight to St. Mungo's, but it was still odd to watch them all disappear in an orderly fashion right before his eyes. After he realized that he was the only one left, Harry followed the rest of the Weasleys to St. Mungo's.

"Where is she?"

"Sir, I can't tell you anything at the moment — "

"Listen, I'm her boyfriend . . . the baby's father, I think I have a right to see her," Ron informed Hag. Everyone was gathered in the waiting area with Ginny now, but Ron was furious. He spoke with an icy chill in his words, making it clear that he would be seeing Hermione whether Hag would give him the information or not.

"Sir — "

"Tell me. Now."

Apparently, the Weasley glare had been passed down from Molly to her children, because Hag gulped and flicked her wand so she could look through a very thick and heavy stack of papers. "V — Very well then. Miss Hermione Granger, Room 144. She's with Healer Chang at the mom — "

Before Hag could finish her sentence, Ron was gone. The entire Weasley clan, minus Charlie, Bill and their significant others was gathered around the waiting area. Mrs. Weasley's face was pale and strained, as was everyone's. They had, after all, just undergone a huge shock. They hadn't even known Hermione was pregnant, and now they were facing the possibility of losing something that they hadn't even known they had. It was all rather confusing.

"I hope she's okay," Fred mumbled to George.

"She's got to be," George answered, unconsciously taking the hand of Katie and squeezing it.

Ginny and Harry were having a similar conversation on the other side of the room. "She just looked so unbelievably scared. I'm not used to a scared Hermione," Ginny told him.

"It is unnerving. She's always so calm," Harry agreed.

"I can't believe that we've been here nearly an hour and nobody's told us anything!" Ginny suddenly burst out. "For Merlin's sake, I need to know if she's okay!"

"Calm down, Gin. Ron went in, we'll find out soon enough."

Ginny sat back down, breathing heavily. The scene played itself out several more times before Ron came back. The conversations stopped immediately. "Well?" an impatient Ginny finally asked.

"She's — She's all right, I suppose," Ron answered shakily.

"What do you mean, you suppose?" Mrs. Weasley demanded. "And the baby?"

"What I mean is that she was almost hit with the Killing Curse, and she's as good as she can be, given the circumstances. The baby's still alive, thanks to Ginny getting her to St. Mungo's so quickly. Otherwise — " Ron's voice broke here. He couldn't help but imagine what would have happened had Hermione been alone in the house.

A sigh of relief spread through the room. "So she and the baby are all right, then?" asked Ginny, voice weak with tears.

"Yes. She's got to stay here overnight, but she can come home in the morning," Ron explained. "I'm staying here with her."

With that, he turned right back around and went back to Hermione's room. Slowly, the rest of the clan Apparated away, some to the Burrow, some to their homes. But everyone eventually ended up at the Burrow for the night, anyway. Given the situation, they somehow felt the urge to just be together.

"I'll kill him. You know that, don't you?" Ron asked quietly. He was in one of the rooms on the recuperation side with Hermione later that night. It was a calm, soothing room, with walls that changed color with whatever mother and baby inhabited it. At the moment, they were a sort of undecided green, flickering slightly between pink and blue. Ron took it to mean that it was too early to tell what the sex of their baby was.

Hermione looked away, out the large window to her right. She was rather calm now, but still shaken. Almost losing this child — it had put things into perspective for her. She knew that from now on, her baby would be her number one priority. "Ron, there's no point — "

"What do you mean, there's no point? He tried to kill you, and our baby!"

"So you'd like to witness the baby's birth from Azkaban, then?" Hermione countered.

Ron became quiet after that. "No," he said after a while, sulkily. He was laying next to Hermione in bed, stroking her long, wavy hair. "But Malfoy _should_ be punished. I can't believe he would have the nerve . . . why did he do it, anyway?"

"Well . . . it's my fault, really. Ginny and I saw him at the diner we went to after the Healer's, and I kind of yelled at him a little," she said quietly, shifting her position so her head was resting against Ron's chest.

"Why? Did he do something to you or Ginny?"

"Not really, but he was talking about us!" she defended. "He was with some slut and he was telling her bad things about us!"

"Did you actually hear what he said? Look, I'm not trying to defend him or anything like that, but you've got to understand that we really don't want to get on his bad side any more than we already are! His father is a _Death Eater_ for Merlin's sake. We need to be especially careful now that we're having a baby."

Hermione looked at him astonished. This was _not_ the Ron she had known for seven years! When had he gotten so mature? Ever since she'd told him about the baby he had grown more serious by the moment, up until this little outburst.

"Are you okay, Ron? What's gotten into you?"

"Me? It's what's gotten _into_ you that's got me thinking," he answered, grinning at his own joke.

"I can see why you're worried, but I don't think we have to worry about Malfoy . . . anytime soon, that is. I sort of hit him with a frying pan . . . " she trailed off as Ron burst into laughter.

"Hermione, _my_ Hermione, whacked Malfoy with a frying pan?" he managed to gasp out between bouts of laughing.

"Yes, and I don't see what's so funny about it," she returned sharply, lifting her head up and moving toward the opposite side of the bed.

"Okay, I'm sorry for laughing. It's just so un-Hermionish," he said, reaching to wrap his arm around her shoulders and bring him back toward her. "Oh, Merlin, I just got the most _brilliant_ idea!" he exclaimed, deciding that it was safe to speak again.

"Well, there is a first time for everything," she retorted.

"No, I'm serious! Let's get away from here for the last week of summer, come on! Harry and Ginny can come with us, it'll be fun," he pleaded at the dubious look on her face.

"I don't know . . . I've got lesson plans to make," she argued. She had just gotten the letter a week before, from Professor McGonogall herself. After Dumbledore's death, she had become Headmistress of Hogwarts. She wanted Hermione to come back to Hogwarts as an assistant to Professor Flitwick. He planned on retiring at the end of the year, and when he did, Hermione was to take over his job as Charms professor. "And what if the Healer says I'm to stay in bed?"

"Sod the lesson plans, let's go! I've even thought of the perfect place . . . the Bahamas! Who could say no to a week of the Bahamas? And if you have got to stay in bed, what better place to do it than there? You can lay out on the beach and relax. No strenuous activity."

"Hmm . . . I guess it would be good to get away for a while. Okay," she agreed, smiling at the exuberant look on Ron's face. "But I've got to talk to the Healer first, before anything's set."

"Brilliant! I can't wait to tell Harry and Ginny! You know what, I think I'll go right now. You don't mind, do you? I'll be back in a minute," Ron assured Hermione. He didn't want to leave her, but he really wanted to tell Harry and his sister about the vacation.

"No, go on. I'm going to take a rest, anyway. I'm knackered . . . just come back, all right?" Hermione said in a small voice.

"Of course," Ron replied. He leaned over to kiss Hermione, then Apparated to the Burrow.

"Harry! Ginny! Where in the bloody hell are you guys?" called Ron as he bounded up the stairs two at a time.

When he reached the top he heard voices coming from Ginny's room. He'd only recently found out that his mum and dad were letting Harry and Ginny share a room. Being Ron, he had of course blown a major fit about it. The result was Harry and Ron each gaining a black eye, but Harry and Ginny still sharing a room.

Upon asking his mum why she was letting them sleep in the same room, she'd just looked at him and sighed. Then, she told him that Ginny was going to be a mother soon and he'd better get used to her sharing a room with Harry, because surely they'd be doing much more than that sooner or later.

He walked over to Ginny's room and saw her laying flat on her back with her T-shirt pulled up to reveal her pale belly, not even slightly rounded yet. Harry was on his stomach, facing Ginny, with a hand resting lightly on her stomach, as if afraid to hurt the baby. As Ron watched, Ginny placed her hand on top of Harry's and leaned up to kiss him.

"Ahem . . . " he cleared his throat embarrassedly. Harry pulled away guiltily, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Hey, Ron . . . we were just — "

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you were doing. Spare me the details," said Ron dismissively. "Anyway, Hermione and I are going to the Bahamas next week, sort of celebrating . . . you know, the babies and all, and it being the last week of summer. We were wondering if you two wanted to join us."

"Are you kidding me!" squealed Ginny. She jumped up from the bed so fast, Harry would've fallen right off the other side if he hadn't caught hold of the bedpost.

"Um . . . no, if I was do you think I would have interrupted your little snog session to ask you?"

"Oh, come off it, Ron. When are we leaving?" asked Ginny, too excited to pay any mind to the slightly reprimanding tone to her brother's voice.

"I don't know. Probably within the next few days, as soon as the Healer says Hermione's fit to travel. We'll come back the day before term starts, seeing as how you've got to get back to school, and so does Hermione," answered Ron.

"Awesome, this is going to be so fun!" shouted Ginny. She raced out of the room, presumably to find someone of the female race so she could giggle and shriek some more.

Harry got up off the bed and walked over to Ron, eyeing him warily. He wasn't hankering for a third black eye from his best friend. Ron grinned, and Harry relaxed.

"This is going to be fun, isn't it?" Harry asked.

Ron clapped him on the back and held the door open for him before going through himself. "That it is, mate. That it is," he chuckled. "Two pregnant women and a week in the Bahamas . . . couldn't get much better than that."


	8. Fun In The Sun

_**Chapter 8**_

_**Fun in The Sun**_

"Bahamas, Bahamas, we're going to the Bahamas," sang Ginny. She was sitting on her bed, pointing her wand at various items so that they zoomed into the open trunk at the foot of her bed.

"I thought I heard you singing in here," laughed Harry as he paused outside Ginny's door and watched her charm her trunk to hold more items.

"Now now, there's no need to make fun of my wonderful singing abilities," joked Ginny.

Before Harry could make a comeback, a small jittering furball flew through the open window and into his head, dropping a letter from his minute claws as he did so. Harry opened the letter, massaging the side of his head with one hand.

_Harry and Ginny,_

_Ha! We beat you guys! Hermione and I are already in the Bahamas, it's bloody wonderful here. We have a room reserved for you guys in a Muggle . . . retort, is that what Hermione called it? Never mind, she's just told me it's a 'resort'. I know we weren't supposed to leave separately, but Hermione just thought you needed some time alone. Mum and Dad are away for the week as well, and you'll have the house to yourselves. Mind you, I don't share her opinion, but anyway, we'll see you tomorrow at 10:00. Don't forget your Portkey leaves at exactly 9:56 tomorrow morning! (That was Hermione, she stole the quill!)._

_Love,_

_Ron (and Hermione!)_

Harry chuckled after he read the letter and handed it over to Ginny, who quickly read through it. When she finished, she glanced over at Harry shyly. Hermione's suggestion that they needed some privacy was quite embarrassing, after all. The woman had just gotten out of St. Mungo's two days ago, and she was already back to her old self.

Harry, however, was overjoyed by the fact that they were completely alone at last. Arthur and Molly, as they'd insisted Harry call them, had gone to stay with Charlie and Riley for the remaining week of summer to go over some things about the wedding; Riley wanted a completely Muggle wedding and Charlie a Wizard one. Everyone else was at their own homes.

Deciding to take full advantage of the empty house, Harry stood from his perch on the edge of Ginny's bed and slowly walked toward her. He eventually had her against the wall. When he was directly in front of her, their bodies touching, he saw the look of fear flash in her eyes. He took a step back, afraid of scaring her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'll be okay," she told him. Michael had taken control over enough of her life — he was not going to have anything to do with her and Harry's relationship.

"You sure?"

She hesitated for a moment, then looked at him. His green eyes burned with lust, and she knew some of it must be reflected back to him from her own.

"Should we really do this, Ginny?" he asked again.

"Hell yes," she said with conviction, as she took hold of his collar and drew him closer to her, placing a rough kiss on his lips.

He broke apart from her and began showering her neck with fiery kisses. When it became not enough for either of them, Harry picked her up and carefully laid her down on her bed. Gently, he lowered himself onto her, and she looked up at him, brown eyes on fire.

"Show me how much you love me, Harry."

So he did. And he made love to her half the night.

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke the next morning was the absence of Ginny's warm body next to his. The second thing he noticed was where Ginny was. She was standing by the window, wearing the black T-shirt he'd been wearing last night, arms folded across her chest. The blood red sunset flickered off her auburn hair, and set her pale face on fire.

Harry rolled out of bed and walked over to her, circling his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head. "What time is it?" he yawned.

"Six," she answered absently.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, turning her round so she was facing him.

"Nothing . . . everything is right," she smiled at him, and he melted at the sight of her standing there, because she was so utterly _his._ His scent was on her, she was wearing his clothes, everything about her just seemed to scream 'She belongs to you, Harry!'

She yawned and kissed him lightly before heading for the bathroom to shower before they had to leave for PITC (Portkey International Travel Center). Harry watched her go, a silly grin plastered on his face. This whole thing had come upon him so suddenly, he just didn't know what to think anymore.

It seemed like he'd only just fallen in love with Ginny yesterday, but inside he knew that wasn't true. After all, when he'd finally told her, it wasn't as if that was the first time the feeling was occurring to him. On the contrary, he had loved Ginny since his fifth year. Their relationship changed quite a bit over the years, but it had never been exactly how Harry wanted it to be.

The reason Harry hadn't acted on his feelings when they first began was simple — Voldemort. He didn't want Ginny to be hurt. And he knew that Voldemort would use her to his advantage, probably as bait for another trap. He loved her too much to let that happen, so he denied her. But after it was over, when Voldemort was gone for good, he couldn't stop it anymore.

And with the revelation that Michael had hurt her in the most unimaginable way, Harry felt that he ought to confess his feelings as soon as possible. Not only had it helped her to open up, but it prevented her from falling even deeper into herself, possibly so far that nobody would be able to bring her back.

So though it seemed like a rather quick developing relationship, it wasn't. It had been brewing for nearly three years now. Now just happened to be the perfect time to act on it.

"Is that everything? Don't forget, the luggage gets sent by an earlier Portkey, so we should leave now!" yelled Ginny up the stairs, waiting impatiently for Harry to come down.

He leapt down the stairs two at a time and grabbed the bags she was holding. "You shouldn't be straining yourself, love."

"I'm not _straining_ myself, Harry. I'm perfectly capable of carrying things," she defended, grabbing her luggage back from him.

"No, I'll carry them . . . this is ridiculous! _Mobilius trunks_," he muttered, and all their luggage, both Ginny's and Harry's, floated along ahead of them as they walked a few blocks to the Portkey Center.

Once they got there, Harry directed the bags to the room where the luggage would be sent before them, then headed to the front desk to hand the woman their tickets.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked cheerily as his turn in line came.

"Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, we have the 9:55 Portkey to the Bahamas," he stated, handing over their tickets.

"Of course," she replied, taking the tickets from him. "That'll be Room Five, the third one on your left, right down that hallway," said the woman, pointing to a hallway on the other side of the room.

"Thanks," he smiled, then went back to Ginny. She didn't even notice; her nose was buried in a book of baby names she'd borrowed from her mum.

Ginny saw him coming and closed the book, grinning up at him. "Ready?" she asked excitedly.

"Yup, the luggage is already there, and we have," he glanced down at his watch, "five minutes left before our Portkey leaves."

"I can't wait! I've never been anywhere exotic before, unless you count the time we went to Egypt, but that was kind of boring . . . "

She trailed off as a voice floated through the air, "9:55 Portkey to the Bahamas is leaving in four minutes and counting!"

"That's us!" squealed Ginny, letting Harry help her to her feet and lead her over to Room Five.

"Ewww," she whined as she saw what they'd have to touch. A cracked Muggle thermometer lay on a table in the center of the room. About five other people were waiting along with Harry and Ginny.

Ginny glanced around at the other people and recognized a familiar heart-shaped face in the corner, standing next to a plump, cheery looking man with his arm draped around her waist.

"Luna!"

"Ginny! Harry!" shouted Luna. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're going to the Bahamas for the last week of summer," explained Ginny, moving to stand beside the couple.

"Oh, my God, Neville? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me . . . how's it going? You two are obviously together by now, have Ron and Hermione come to their senses yet?"

Harry and Ginny laughed and Ginny said, "Yes, they are together and expecting a baby as well. Are you guys together?"

Neville blushed, but Luna answered in her usual dreamy voice. "Yes, actually we are . . . we've been since fifth year, Neville's sixth. Wow, Hermione's pregnant? Who would have thought."

Harry glanced at his watch, and before Ginny could mention anything about her own pregnancy, he announced that they were going to miss the Portkey if they didn't get over to it at that exact second.

Exactly one minute and thirteen seconds later, Ginny tentatively opened her eyes to the most wonderful sight she'd ever witnessed. They'd landed in a small clove of trees that opened onto the beach. Palm trees lined the shore and the water sparkled brightly in the sun. She sighed contentedly, wondering how much better this day could get.

"Ginny? Sorry to burst your bubble, but how are we supposed to find Ron and Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Uh . . . I don't think that'll be a problem," answered Ginny.

Harry followed the direction of her gaze only to see Hermione backed against a tree by Ron, who looked as if he was trying to cover as much of Hermione's face as he could with his mouth.

"Should we tell them there's about six people here enjoying their little show?" asked Ginny, grinning at Harry.

"Do you guys ever give it a rest? No wonder she's already pregnant, I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few of them in there," joked Harry, walking past Ron and clapping him on the back, closely followed by Ginny.

Stunned, Ron and Hermione watched their retreating backs for a few seconds before looking at each other, then slowly looking behind them. They took one look at the group gathered behind them, quickly glanced at one another again, then took off running after Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, Ginny, wait!"

Ron and Hermione caught up to them quickly.

"You guys made it," panted Ron.

"Yeah, mate, we did . . . and by the looks of it, you made it too."

"Funny, Harry. Come on, let's go to the resort, it's amazing. They have visi-tellys and everything!" proclaimed Ron.

Harry looked at Hermione for an explanation and she mouthed 'televisions' to him.

He smirked at Ron and laughed, snaking his arm around Ginny's waist. His hand landed on her lower abdomen. He felt the ever so slight bump already forming and couldn't help but smile at the plan that was already forming in his head.


	9. Doing What's Right

_**Chapter 9**_

_**Doing What's Right**_

Coldness engulfed her body as bolts of lightning shot from the otherwise inky black sky. She couldn't see a single thing, and the sudden shocks of light hurt her eyes.

"What do you want from me!" she screamed into the thick, black night. It was worse than the feeling of a dementor breathing down her neck. She just wanted to get out of here and back to her warm, safe bed . . .

"Ginevra Weasley, I presume?" a slippery voice asked from somewhere to her right.

Ginny closed her eyes tightly and brought her hands down to wrap around her stomach protectively, for she knew at once who that terrible voice belonged to. She'd only met Michael's father once, but there was no way she could forget him. He was a middle-aged man who looked almost identical to Michael, and once, he'd even tried to hit on her. _Like father, like son_, she thought.

"What do you want from me you bastard!" she shrieked toward where she guessed the voice was coming from.

Before Ginny got her answer, she could suddenly see a lithe figure among all the blackness.

"I knew it was you," Ginny muttered indignantly. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm coming to claim what is min — my son's," he answered, coming dangerously close. "Do you, and your child for that matter, wish to live another day?"

"I don't know what you're playing at, but get the hell out of my mind. That's right, I know this isn't a dream, I'm not stupid," growled Ginny.

"Fine, have it your way; one way or another, my son's heir will find her way back to us. But let's make it interesting: either you leave Harry Potter and flee, never to be seen again . . . or I kill each and every member of your family slowly. Starting with Miss Granger and her unborn child. Hmmmm," he contemplated. "That sounds fun. Now I wonder how I should go about doing _that_? First, I'll take a rope — "

"Enough," whimpered Ginny. She had no desire to hear the man's further plans concerning Hermione or any other member of her family. She'd already almost lost the baby once, and to have to go through that again? Ginny could never let that happen. "Please don't hurt anyone. I — I'll leave Harry," she whispered, choking on the tears she would not allow herself to shed. Her words caused her physical pain, a sharp stab to her chest.

"Just as I thought," Mr. Corner said smoothly, reaching out a hand to caress her stomach.

Ginny just pushed his hand away in revulsion, glaring. He smiled coldly at her then pointed his wand at her and shouted, "_Empiez!" _She assumed it was the spell to return her to her previous location.

She felt a whirling sensation, similar to a Portkey, and suddenly she was lying face-down on her bed. She gingerly sat up, grateful for the fact that she was alone. Quickly, she grabbed a suitcase from the hotel closet and packed the essential items she'd need . . . all she knew was that she sure as hell was _not _going to put her family in danger.

Gingerly, she stuck her head out the door and peeked first one way, then the other. Finding the coast clear, she took off toward the elevators. Before leaving, she'd decided she was going to do everything the Muggle way; there would be no tracing _her _by any means. She had even left her wand behind in the room.

Half an hour later found Ginny on a rickety old bus, her head resting forlornly against the window. She stared at the countryside passing her by and seriously had no idea what she was doing. She'd left her heart with Harry, and she could feel a cold emptiness every time she thought about him.

She closed her eyes and tried to forget everything, resting an open palm against her stomach.

"We'll be okay, baby girl," she assured shakily. "Wait a minute! Michael's dad said she'd find _her _way back eventually. I was right, it is a girl!" The small fact didn't offer much comfort, but it was enough to get Ginny through the remainder of the bus ride.

She stepped off the bus on Hope Street. It was a completely random choice, but she figured what could be more promising than 'Hope Street'? Besides, she didn't know anyone else in the Bahamas, and she sure as hell couldn't go back home . . . at least not until someone found her of their own accord.

Ginny tentatively walked over toward the first building she saw, and was relieved to find it was an inn, or motel, or something of the like. A bell jangled when she opened the door and she walked over to the elderly man slumped in a chair behind the counter.

"E — Excuse me," she stuttered nervously.

"I bloody well did not eat all the tarts," he mumbled, then shook his head and opened his eyes.

"Oh, hello, can I help you young miss?" he asked cheerily, smile on his wrinkled face.

"Well . . . I was sort of looking for somewhere to stay for the time being — until I find myself a flat of my own that is," she whispered, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

The man sighed and glanced sympathetically at her. _Another runaway_, he thought to himself. "I'm Martin," he said out loud. "We have plenty of vacancies. Would you like an ocean view?"

"It doesn't matter," Ginny mumbled, looking down at the floor. She was so ashamed at herself for leaving without telling anyone, but what choice did she have? All her family ever did was love her, would it really be fair to put them in danger because of her own stupid mistake?

"Miss? Miss?" she heard, and she snapped out of her thoughts, looking toward the sound of the voice.

She spotted Martin over by the stairs, her suitcase in his hand. "Follow me, Miss."

"You can just call me . . . Taylor," she lied quickly, the name of one of her childhood friends coming to mind.

"Very well, Taylor, if you'll just follow me," he looked back at her, then seemed to notice her protruding stomach for the first time. "Dear me, a baby on the way? Not a good time for a mother-to-be to be on her own, if it's not too bold to say."

She simply glared at him, and he widened his eyes and led the way to her room without another word.

After she'd gotten her room, which incidentally did have a view of the ocean, she decided a plan of action was in order. The baby would be coming in about . . . oh, a fair amount of time. That gave her plenty of time to find a job and a flat before she'd have to worry about another little mouth to feed.

Ginny placed a hand against her temple, trying to ward off the already forming headache. She closed her eyes, and couldn't stop the image of a young man with jet-black hair and sparkling green eyes coming back to the resort to find all her stuff, and her as well, gone.

A knock on her door jarred her from her thoughts, and she jumped slightly. "Miss Taylor, it's Martin," she heard from outside, and she frowned, wondering what he was doing knocking at her door.

"Just a minute," she called, and stood up from her perch, making her way to the door.

Ginny opened the door to find Martin standing outside with a young man who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen with him. "This is my grandson, Charlie. Thought you might need a guide or someone to show you around," Martin said, giving Charlie a shove inside the room.

"Anything you need, just give me a ring downstairs," yelled Martin on his way back to the lobby.

"Hi," greeted Charlie awkwardly, holding out his hand.

Ginny placed her hand within his own and smiled reassuringly at him. The poor lad looked as if his grandfather had forced him to meet her against his will.

"Hi, I'm Gi — Taylor," she answered, berating herself for the slip-up.

He let go of her hand, and glanced around the room, not at all sure what to do next. His grandfather practically threatened him to come meet this young woman, not mentioning her, ahem, condition, and then he was left all alone with her after only just meeting her.

"So . . . do you in fact need a guide, or is my grandfather becoming senile, and pushing his opinions on other people again?" joked Charlie, trying to lighten the mood.

Ginny managed to crack a smile and said, "I would appreciate a guide very much, thanks."

Silently, she wondered to herself. Was this someone sent to her, someone to help her through this rough time? By all means, no way was she looking for someone to replace Harry, and never would she, but she would eventually need _someone's _help. And who could possibly be of more help than Charlie? Someone who seemed quite eager to please, but not someone she could foresee herself falling for. Her heart would always belong to Harry Potter, but when that means putting the ones you love in danger . . . it's best to keep your heart, and never let it go.


	10. The Plan

_**Chapter 10**_

_**The Plan**_

Numbly, Harry sat, or rather dropped to Ginny's bed and let his head drop into his hands. Hermione and Ron stood outside the door silently watching, their hearts wrenching at the pain Harry, and the two of them as well, were feeling.

"Ron . . . we've got to find her. It's been almost a week, and the Aurors have absolutely no leads. Not to mention the fact that she's pregnant! We can't just sit by and let her stay gone. Who knows what happened the night she left? She could've been threatened or something, we don't know what happened," Hermione whispered, pulling Ron away from the door so they could give Harry some privacy.

"I know, Hermione. But what can we do that the Aurors aren't already doing? Hell, we've even got the Order out looking for her."

After the defeat of Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix's members had all agreed that they'd keep in touch just on the off-chance that something would happen, and they were certainly glad of that now.

"I don't know . . . something tells me we need to go back to the Bahamas. I mean, why would she come here?" Hermione came back with, trying desperatelyto get Ron to agree with her.

He looked at her and sighed, running a hand through her brown locks, no longer as bushy as they'd been when he first met her. "Maybe you're right, 'Mione. Maybe we do need to do something ourselves. I'm not sure . . . but d'you think we should tell Harry about this, or just do it alone? And I don't want you in any danger."

"We should tell Harry, definitely," she answered, touched at his concern for her through all this. "And I haven't forgotten that she's your sister, you know. You've got to be feeling horrible, you don't need to put up your guard around me. I love you, I can tell you're hurting terribly."

Ron looked down at her, smiling gently. "It never ceases to amaze me how intuitive you are, love."

Hermione reached up and placed a soft kiss on his lips, then walked back over to peek in on Harry. He'd laid down on her bed, propping one arm behind his head, and he was staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I'm worried about him," she told Ron, as they started down the stairs to speak to Arthur and Molly about their plan. "I understand that he's hurting something horrible, but it's not healthy for him not to speak about it."

"We just need to find Gin, that's all. Besides, it's what Harry does when something like this is going on, you know that. Never speaks a bloody word."

Harry lay on Ginny's bed, listening to Ron and Hermione speak in hushed tones outside the door. He closed his eyes against the pain tearing at his heart, and a lump formed in his throat when he spotted Hermione look in on him. He glanced discreetly at her stomach, which only served to remind him of Ginny again.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. Of course, he wasn't going to just let Ginny leave him, no matter what had happened that night. He didn't know what was going on with her, but he sure as hell knew that he wasn't going to let her run away from it. Whatever happened, he'd promised her they'd get through it together, and he wasn't backing down on that vow.

"So, if you don't mind me asking . . . where's the father of your baby?" asked Charlie out of the blue one day as he and Ginny sat down in the lobby, chatting idly.

"Umm . . . that's kind of personal. But don't think for a moment that he didn't love me," defended Ginny, automatically replacing Michael with Harry as the baby's father in her mind.

"Oh," replied Charlie awkwardly. Suddenly, he stood and extended his hand toward Ginny, who took it and pushed herself off the couch they'd been sitting on.

"So, Taylor, you hungry? I thought maybe we could go get something . . . but if you don't want to, I understand, we can just stay here and eat — "

Ginny cut off Charlie's ranting and said, "If you don't mind, I'd like it if we could just eat here. I'm not feeling too well."

Every time someone addressed Ginny as Taylor it took her a moment to realize they were talking to her. "Let me just go change, and I'll be back down. We can eat in the restaurant down here if that's okay," she continued.

"Yeah . . . I'll be waiting here," answered Charlie.

Ginny made her way up the stairs and to her room, sliding the key and opening the door when she got there. She pulled open the closet door and ruffled through the clothes for a moment before sliding out a short, lilac colored sun dress. Harry had bought that for her a short while after he'd first found out about the baby. She slid it over her head and smiled at the little bump sticking out in the middle. It wrenched her heart every time she felt the baby move at all because all it made her think about was Harry.

But somehow she knew Harry would find her. Not that she particularly was wishing for it, because that meant it would put him in danger. She wanted him to find her, of course she did, but she'd rather sacrifice her own happiness than have him in any more danger than was necessary. After all, hadn't he done the same for her for so many years?

She piled her auburn hair atop her head and secured it with a clip before slipping on a pair of sandals and heading back downstairs. Before she even made it down the first flight she heard a loud crack of thunder outside and lightning lit up the floor-length windows in the lobby. _Great, _she thought. _Thunderstorm, just another thing to bring my mood down._

She continued down the stairs and saw Charlie waiting at a table in the little restaurant that was meant for visitors. Silently, Ginny wondered if she was being fair to him. What would happen if he developed a crush on her? He really was being so sweet and nice and she didn't want to hurt him. But what else could she do? Harry was her soulmate, there was no interfering with that.

As she approached the table, rain started falling on the roof and streaming down the windows, blurring the sun setting below the horizon. _Something was happening_. There was no question about it. To Ginny, an electric charge seemed to materialize in the air around her, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. It wasn't a feeling of evil, however. Something was going on, and she wasn't sure what. The only thing she felt sure of was that it was nothing to harm her.

Ginny glanced at Charlie, who seemed slightly nervous and she wondered if he felt it too.

She sat down, placing a hand over her abdomen and feeling slight movement. She was three, nearly four months along, but not too far enough to feel a lot of moving around. Again, the feeling washed over her that something was transpiring. Rain fell in thick curtains down the window now, and the feeling became so strong she actually had to stand back up and look around.

She looked at Charlie apologetically before grabbing her light sweater and bolting. Somehow, some way, she knew she was going to be found tonight, whether she liked it or not.

"Still think this was a bloody good idea!" shouted Ron over the pouring rain and pounding thunder.

Hermione glared at him from under the meager protection her umbrella offered and yelled, "Yes! Always return to the beginning if you want to get to the end!"

Ron just glowered and stood there looking confused for a moment.

"God help him," muttered Hermione under her breath, whacking Ron across the head once for good measure.

"What'd you do that for? Have you gone mental?"

"Just follow me, this is where we were last with her. We should be able to find something the Aurors missed. They weren't there with us after all," Hermione scowled.

"Yeah, well I hope this works, 'Mione."

"Me too, Ron. Me too."


	11. I Need You

_**Chapter 11**_

_**I Need You**_

Ginny sat on a bench in front of a bus stop, the overhang sheltering her from the beating rain. There was nothing she wanted more than to go home, and by Merlin, if Harry was coming to find her, there was no way she was going to sit around and wait for him to come to her.

She had been gone from her family for merely a week, and she wasn't enjoying it. Despite the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was put anyone else in danger because of her, she had learned from Harry that the worst thing you could do when things like this were going on was to shut up inside yourself and run away from everyone.

As she thought of Harry, his words suddenly came to her mind, clear as if he were sitting right beside her. _"Ginny, if you're pregnant, you won't have to go through this alone, I promise. I'll be there for you every step of the way, even if you're not — you know, going to have a baby."_

She winced as a streak of lightning hit a little too close to home for her liking. _Please, Harry . . . I need you to find me. I thought I could do this on my own, but the truth is, I can't. _She moved her hands down to caress the small roundness of her abdomen. Almost instantaneously she started talking. To the baby, to herself, to nobody in particular.

"I love him so much," she spoke to her child between sobs. "But I'm so scared that loving him means losing him."

**_I don't need a lot of things, I can get by with nothing_**

_**Of all the blessings life can bring, I've always needed something **_

_**But I've got all I want when it comes to loving you**_

_**You're my only reason, you're my only truth**_

"What if Michael's father comes after us? What then? I don't expect Harry to always be around 24/7, he has his own life to attend to, you know. I don't believe a word of what Mr. Corner said, you won't go to the dark side . . . "

"Nobody's going to the dark side if I have anything to say about it," came a voice from behind Ginny. Instantly, she recognized it as Ron's and stood up, whirling around.

She never thought she would be so happy to see Ron's face. He was standing behind her with Hermione, whose stomach looked identical to Ginny's, perhaps a bit smaller. The rain was drenching them both, but the looks of pure happiness as they watched her made all the difference.

"Gin, what the hell are you doing here? We've been searching for you ever since we got home, the whole bloody Ministry has Aurors all over the place looking for you!"

It was too much for Ginny to handle. "I'm sorry, okay! If you knew what happened, you wouldn't blame me for leaving!"

"What happened, Ginny?" asked Hermione gently, taking her by the elbow and sitting her back down on the bench, out of the rain. Quickly, Ginny spilled the cliff notes version of that night's events, wanting as much as was humanely possible to find Harry.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, when she was finally finished. Ron and Hermione sat numbly on the bench beside each other, staring at her as if she were a loon.

Ron cleared his throat and nudged Hermione, who hastily gathered herself together.

"Ummm . . . he didn't exactly know where we were going . . . "

"I don't care if he doesn't know, he will soon. Can we please go home?" Ginny begged, salty ponds of tears pooling in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Aw, Gin, you know I can't resist that look. Come on, we'll catch the next Portkey to Surrey, and go to the Burrow from there," relented Ron, finished with his reprimanding. He was just so happy to have his baby sister again, he couldn't find it in him to scold her anymore.

**_I need you like water, like breath . . . like rain_**

_**I need you like mercy from Heaven's gate**_

_**There's a freedom in your arms that carries me through**_

_**I need you . . . **_

Butterflies flew around the inside of Ginny's stomach, desperatelyvying for her attention. She felt as if she were going to be sick at the thought of what Harry would have to say to her. Would he be mad? Would he cry? Would he scream at her, tell her that he wanted nothing to do with her anymore? Even as she thought it, Ginny knew that it wasn't true.

Ron pulled up to the Burrow in a Ministry car, and parked. "Are you ready, Ginny?"

"More than I ever will be," she sighed, opening the door and stepping out. "Can't escape the rain," she mumbled, meaning it literally and figuratively. It seemed the rain storm that plagued the Bahamas was mirrored in England. The rain still poured down on her face and clothes, but nothing but the moment when she met Harry again seemed to matter anymore.

"Are you sure it won't be too much stress for the baby to handle?" asked Hermione, ever the thinker.

"No . . . no, I'll be fine now. And so will she," smiled Ginny, breaking into a run.

Feeling grateful that she found nobody in the rest of the house, she made it as fast as she could upstairs and to her room, where she knew she'd find Harry. However, she stopped outside the door as she heard his deep voice talking.

"I love her so much it aches," he croaked, and Ginny felt a lump in her throat as she peeked inside the door to find Harry standing by the window, looking up at the dark sky. "You don't understand, I can't live my life without her. I don't think it's possible to love anyone more than I love her. She's become my life, my future . . . my best friend. Haven't you taken enough from me? You have to take my reason for living? I demand that you bring her back to me! What more do I have to do to make myself worthy? I've saved the freaking world for Merlin's sake, a hundred times over, and you can't grant me the one blessing of letting me be happy for once?"

Noiselessly, Ginny opened the door and went to stand behind Harry. He stood, watching the rain pour in streaks down the window. Closing his eyes, then opening them again, he fancied that he saw Ginny's reflection in the glass.

"She's the one," he whispered. "Find her, keep her safe."

"I am safe. Now," spoke Ginny from where she stood.

Harry wheeled around and rubbed his eyes, then looked at her again. "Ginny?" he asked doubtfully. "Is that really you?"

Ginny couldn't answer, the tears found their way over her eyes and down her pale cheeks. Harry was equally silent and the only thing he found he was capable of doing was pulling her into a tight hug and relishing the feel of her curvaceous, four months pregnant body against his own.

**_You're the hope that moves me  
To courage again  
You're the love that rescues me  
When the cold winds rage  
And it's so amazing  
'Cause that's just how you are  
And I can't turn back now  
'Cause you've brought me too far_**

Ginny buried her face in his neck, breathing the scent of him. It still gnashed at her that she was putting him, and everyone she knew, in danger. Especially now, after she'd just heard him beg for happiness in his life. But she was there, in his arms, and for once she was going to enjoy that.

"I love you," he whispered, drawing her even closer to him and threading his fingers through her thick hair. "I can't wait to do this anymore. I've been planning this since we were on vacation, and then, well . . . "

With that, he bent down to a single knee and looked upward into Ginny's hazy, coffee-colored eyes."Ginny, I know I could never live up to what you deserve, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than I could ever dream of loving another woman, and I want you to know that. No matter what happens, you will always be the one I want to be there with; you're the one I want to live with, the one I want to die with. I don't deserve you in the least, but do you think there's a chance you could settle for me?"

Ginny looked down at his hopeful face, and salty tears pooled down her alabaster, marble-like cheeks. "No."


	12. Apologies and Explanations

_**Chapter 12**_

_**Apologies and Explanations**_

"Mum, give them some time alone for Merlin's sake!" pleaded Ron, managing to keep his mother seated in one of the wooden chairs situated around the kitchen table.

"Time alone? They'll be having plenty of time alone soon enough, and right now I want to see my daughter!"

Hermione walked in from outside, one hand on her abdomen casually. "Have they come downstairs yet?"

"No, Harry's probably propo — "

"Ronald Oliver Weasley, if one more word comes from that enormous mouth of yours I swear I will permanently sew it shut!" warned Hermione menacingly.

"P — Propose? Is that what you were going to say?" interrogated Mrs. Weasley, her face paling slightly. "My baby is going to get married?"

"See what you've done now, Ron? We're not sure, Molly, but yes, we think Harry was planning on asking Ginny to marry him," explained Hermione gently, glaring daggers at Ron.

Before anyone else had the chance to scold Ron, a pair of footsteps were heard skulking down the stairs. A head of untidy black hair was seen first, followed by the crestfallen face of Harry. "I'm . . . uh . . . going for a walk, you guys."

"But what about — you know?" implied Ron, vaguely waving a hand towards the stairs in the direction of Ginny's room.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

Hermione looked on silently as Harry offered them a wan smile before stepping from the Burrow, looking for all the world as if he were trying to hold back tears. "Leave him," advised Hermione as Ron made to walk after him. "Something went wrong."

Ron widened his sky-blue eyes at her in comprehension, then gave her a slight push for the stairs whispering, "Go talk to Ginny."

She nodded and headed up the stairs, watching out of the corner of her eye as Ron pushed open the screen door and went to question Harry about what could have possibly happened that would cause him to be less than elated at Ginny's return.

Ron heard the door slam shut behind him and he easily spotted Harry storming off toward the lake. "Harry, mate, wait up will you?" Harry barely broke his stride at the sound of Ron's voice.

"What the hell, Harry? What happened?" panted Ron, finally able to catch up to his friend by using all of the strength he'd gained during his Quidditch playing at Hogwarts.

Harry whirled around to face Ron, his face turning from pale to almost red at the fury he felt for Ron coming after him when he'd made it clear he wanted to be alone. "It's none of your business! You hear me? It's none of your damn business!"

"Where do you get off talking to me like that?" accused Ron viciously. "What have I ever done to you besides be your friend?"

"You brought Ginny back, when she was obviously much happier wherever she was!" Harry sighed and upon reaching a tree, relaxed his back against it and knocked his head once or twice against the rough bark.

"Don't go doing that, now . . ." Ron pleaded with him, knowing full well that a Dobby-like Harry would be of no use to anyone.

"Why not? I've got nothing left to live for, I might as well knock myself into oblivion."

"What are you blubbering on about now? Everything's all fine and well, Ginny's back — and what's all this about her being happier where she was? When we found her she couldn't wait to come back to you."

"Nothing is "fine and well" now, Ron. And I find that hard to believe. You really want to know what happened?"

"Of course I want to know, why do you think I followed you out here?" asked Ron impatiently.

"I asked your sister to marry me and she said no. Just "no." Not even an explanation, no excuse . . . nothing."

"What?" asked Ron, completely flabbergasted as to why Ginny would refuse to marry Harry, the person she'd sworn to love since she was ten years old.

"Don't make me repeat it, it's painful enough to hear it the first time around."

"There's got to be a reasonable explanation . . . uh, did she tell you where she was in the first place and why she ran away?" queried Ron, not sure if Ginny would appreciate Harry finding out from anyone but herself, and definitely not wanting to be the one to experiment.

"She didn't . . . I immediately hit her with the proposal after she walked into the room."

"And let me guess, then you just stormed out after she said no, not even giving her a chance to explain herself?"

"Are you taking lessons from Hermione? Since when have you become so sensitive to women's feelings?"

"Since I found out that you're not and it made me look good next to you."

"Hey!" Harry protested, using his own unique way to apologize for being cross with Ron.

"Now, will you please go back to my sister and give her the opportunity to tell you what happened," Ron ordered, also letting Harry know he wasn't mad at him. Harry knew that his friend was just worried about him, and appreciated that fact.

"What could be so horrible for her to deny herself the chance of happiness?"

"Again, go ask her. I'm not about to tell you again, so go! And you should be the one to talk about someone denying themselves for happiness."

With one final, hesitant look toward Ron, Harry did as he was told and set off back toward the Burrow. The whole way there all he could think about was why Ginny had turned him down. Was he really not good enough for her? The only thing he knew was that when they were together he had the most wonderful feeling of completion, of being whole, and he very much wished that for her as well. Even if it meant that she'd found someone else to feel it with and he'd have to let her go.

He peered in through the back entrance of the house, spotting Hermione coming down the stairs. She spied him gazing through the door and came over to pull him inside by his ear.

"Ow!" he whined, rubbing the raw spot where her nails had dug into his skin. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"What the bloody hell do you _think _that was for, Harry James Potter?"

"In the habit of using full titles today, 'Mione?" joked Ron, coming inside just as he heard Hermione's ranting.

"Oh, shut up Ron! I suppose Harry's told you what happened up there?" she bit back sharply, giving Harry a rough shove up the stairs, causing him to catch the tip of his sneaker on the bottom one and grab the railing before he fell flat on his face.

With a frightened look in her direction, Harry fled up the stairs, realizing the prospect of facing Ginny was a much more safer one than staying put and dealing with Hermione's hormones. As he hurried up the stairs, he heard Hermione's shrill voice taking it up with Ron about how "insensitive you bloody men are!" Harry hadn't heard her curse this much since the reign of Umbridge in their fifth year.

"At least I'm not as emotional as she is," came a soft voice from behind Harry's back. He had been so preoccupied with escaping Hermione's wrath that he hadn't even noticed Ginny standing in her doorway.

"Gin, I'm so sor — "

Ginny closed her eyes. "Please don't apologize to me, Harry. All you did was love me, and how did I repay you? Flat out denying you without even an explanation . . . "

"Care to fill me in on current events?" asked Harry, placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her into her room, making sure the door was closed behind them.

"I — I guess so. I don't want to endanger anyone, it is my fault after all — "

"Ginny, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Okay, let me explain all of this to you before there are any more misunderstandings. When I was taking a nap in our hotel in the Bahamas, you could sort of say I was "summoned" by Mr. Corner . . . better known as Cillian. I supposed he used some type of spell that could transport someone through dreams to you, and make it seem as if it really _were_ a dream. But it was too real, I could see right through his tricks. Anyway, he told me that my baby was rightfully his, seeing as how it's his granddaughter. Yes," she said, seeing the shocked expression on Harry's face. "Mr. Corner confirmed that I'm having a girl. He insists that she belongs to the Dark Side, and told me that she'd eventually find her way back there. I don't want to marry you, Harry . . . yet. But I will, after all of this is settled, I swear that's the first thing I'm going to do. There are no words to tell you how much I love you, but we shouldn't risk a wedding until after this is taken care of. Imagine how ticked Cillian would be if he found out his granddaughter's father is the famous Hero against the Dark Lord. Do you understand, or are you terribly mad?"

"Did you say "father"?" asked Harry, mouth wide open.

"Um . . . did I?" Ginny tried to cover up, failing miserably; she never had been a convincing liar. "Look, I shouldn't have gone assuming things like that — "

"No, I mean — you're right. I want to be her father. I want to raise her as my own daughter. I want her — as well as you — to have my name."

Ginny's heart melted at his words. She leaned over to kiss him, pouring all the pent up sentiments she'd felt over the time she'd been missing into it. He reached over and positioned his hands on the back of her neck, smiling against her mouth as he felt movement from the small swelling of her stomach. As their kiss deepened, Harry flicked his wand at the door and cast a Silencing Charm on the room.

"You insolent little brat, pay attention! I want you to go to her, lie to her . . . tell her it was because of me, whatever your pathetic mind can come up with, but do it! I want that child the second it's born. I won't risk her being exposed to the Light Side!" shouted Cillian Corner at his son, who stood with bowed head before him.

"Yes, father. As you wish."

"That's more like it. Now, surely you must be attracted to her, it can't be all that hard to manage this task . . . "

"Of course, sir. I'm ready to do your will. It is my child, after all. She has no proof of what I did, I could fight for custody if I wished," answered Michael, regaining some of his courage at the anticipation of facing Ginny again. Despite her unwillingness to sleep with him, he'd been fiercely attracted to the fiery redhead all throughout his Hogwarts career.

"That's my boy, fight for what's yours," his father spurred him on, patting him on the back before leaving the library where they'd held their discussion.

"That's right. She's as much mine as she is yours," Michael stated as an afterthought, nearly to himself. "And I'm coming to claim her."


	13. Promises Get Broken

_**Chapter 13**_

_**Promises Get Broken**_

_**The moon is full and my arms are empty**_

_**All night long I've pleaded and cried**_

_**You always said the day that you would leave me**_

_**Would be a cold day in July . . . **_

_**Well time moves slow and promises get broken**_

_**In this cold day in July**_

_**Dixie Chicks: Cold Day in July**_

August 31st dawned humid and sweltering at the Burrow, the early morning sun rising to shine on a house filled with two _extremely _cranky pregnant women and two equally irritable men who were finding that sympathy pains were not all that fictional. For example, Harry swore that every time Ginny had a craving for chocolate truffles (which was fairly often as of late) he would desire them as well. Hermione's cravings were exceptionally odder, ranging from chocolate-covered chicken to eggs covered in mustard.

That particular day happened to be the start of term for Ginny, as well as Hermione who was acting as assistant to Professor Flitwick until he retired at the end of the year. Hermione, being only an assistant, didn't need to actually stay at Hogwarts; she'd be returning home every night after work. Ginny's Hogwarts letter had been sent to the Burrow when the owl had failed to reach her elsewhere, and Mrs. Weasley had gone to acquire her list of schoolbooks a week earlier, and the only thing left to be done was pack a few last minute items.

"Ron, how many times am I going to need to tell you to go put those trunks in the car?" nagged a very impatient Mrs. Weasley. Ginny was leaving, of course, by Hogwarts Express, but Hermione was to Apparate later.

"Just once more, Mum," jested Ron, earning himself a potato hurled at his head.

"Hey! I know you're grouchy as well today, but we don't need anymore hormones in this house than there already are."

"You'd best keep your mouth shut, young man, or one of them is likely to take your head off!" she growled quietly so as not to be heard by the aforementioned "them."

"Oh, you agree with him then? That we're both totally nutters?" asked a distraught Ginny, walking into the kitchen from upstairs.

"No, dear, I haven't said that," Molly soothed, sending daggers at Ron with her eyes for putting her on Ginny's bad side, and so early in the morning at that. She walked over to her daughter and patted her back comfortingly, steering her back up the stairs.

"Ron!" called a voice from outside. "Ron, where are you?"

"Duty calls," Ron grumbled to himself, responding to Hermione's voice and opening the door for her to enter the house. He very nearly gasped at her garments, or rather lack thereof. She wore a tight blue tank top that exposed the moderate protrusion of her stomach and a pair of cut-off denim shorts with frayed edges. "Uh — are you wearing that to work?"

"So what if I am?" she snapped, fanning herself with the _Daily Prophet._

"Um — it's perfectly acceptable clothing."

"Damn right it better be, it's bloody ninety degrees outside!"

"This baby has _got _to be a boy, Hermione. I've never heard you curse so much in your entire life," insisted Ron.

"So now girls aren't allowed to curse?"

"I bloody can't win anymore," he whined in reply, fleeing up the stairs, which seemed to be the favored escape route in recent days.

"Ron, is it just me, or are we the only two sane people within ten miles?" asked Harry quietly, ducking to narrowly escape a black high-heeled shoe thrown at him from Ginny's doorway.

"Thank you!" exclaimed Ron gratefully, pulling him out of harm's way as the matching shoe came hurtling out, along with a shout of "_Why_ can't I fit into these any more!"

"I'm taking charge of this situation!" declared Harry, glancing over to see that Ron was looking at him dubiously. "What? You think I can't deal with a couple of emotional women? I killed Voldemort, for crying out loud. I think I'll be able to handle these two. I've had practice, my friend. Practice."

"Hey, whatever floats your boat . . . "

Harry placed two fingers against his lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle. "Listen up, women . . . and Ron."

"Thanks for that, pal."

Harry nodded and continued. "Ginny, put those shoes back in their rightful suitcase. Hermione!" he bellowed down the stairs. "Get up here and change out of those clothes into something more professional. Mrs. Weasley, you are in charge of making sure that my orders are carried out."

There was complete silence in the household, as slow footsteps were heard coming upstairs. When Hermione finally reached the top, she looked scathingly at Harry, as did Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who'd come from the bedroom at his officious "orders."

"Ron? You know what else I've had practice with?"

"What's that, Harry? And I bloody well hope it has something to do with getting us out of this."

"When all else fails, and when women look at you like they're looking at us: RUN!"

Nearly an hour later, after every last-minute preparation had been taken care of (and Ron and Harry had tentatively returned from wherever they'd run to) Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Ron stood at the platform of Kings' Cross to see Ginny off.

"I'm coming to visit you every day," promised Harry sincerely. "As soon as I get off of work, I'll Apparate — what's that Hermione? No, not onto Hogwarts grounds of course," he joked, causing a small smile to decorate Ginny's face.

"Harry . . . Michael's still going to be at school. What am I supposed to do about him?"

That was something nobody had thought of. "Well, I assume nobody's told McGonogall about any of this?"

"No," admitted Ginny. "But I guess she can take care of it. D'you think she'll expel Michael?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the look of glee that graced her features at the thought of Michael getting expelled from Hogwarts. "I don't know, but I certainly hope so. I'll be up to see you tomorrow. Just wait until I get my hands around his filthy little neck . . . "

"That's the kind of talk I like to hear," bantered Ginny, the hormones and mood swings from earlier in the day having mysteriously vanished. Well . . . almost. "Harry, I'm going to miss you so much." Ginny burst into tears, wrapping her arms around Harry's neck.

"Don't cry, love. We'll be practically living together I'll be there so often," he assured her, drawing her so close that she was pressing hard into his body. She buried her face into his shoulder and forced back the torrent of tears that threatened to break loose any second.

"I know," she replied, voice wavering. "But it won't be the same."

"I love you, Ginny," he told her, placing one hand on either of her cheeks and kissing her.

"Sorry to — um . . . interrupt — but, the train's going to leave in three minutes, darling," harried Mrs. Weasley, gently but firmly grasping Ginny's elbow and directing her toward the train.

With one final kiss, Ginny walked away, glancing back every two seconds to make sure that Harry was still there. When she at last did board the train, she sat next to the window and pressed her face up against it, determined not to lose sight of him until she was no longer able to see him. Her gaze never turned away from his until the Hogwarts' Express rounded a corner.

"I think someone should write to McGonogall and tell her about Ginny's pregnancy before she gets there and causes a massive uproar. Besides, someone needs to let her know about Michael," Harry told Mrs. Weasley later that afternoon as she sat with him and Ron in the living room. Seeing as how Harry had been sharing Ginny's room with her, he was staying on at the Burrow, and obviously so were Ron and Hermione, being that they lived there. He did have his own flat in Muggle London, and he was in fact thinking about asking Ginny to move in with him before the baby was born. All he knew was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, no matter how long he had to wait.

"Good idea, Harry, I'll speak with her," volunteered Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm home! Ron, are you here?"

"We're in the living room, Hermione," returned Ron, smiling at her as she came in. Much to everyone's relief, she'd agreed that her clothes were a _bit _inappropriate and changed into a black robe over a white blouse and slacks.

"How's Ginny? Is she okay? What about Michael?" Harry bombarded her with questions the second he saw her.

"Slow down," she grumbled, taking a seat next to Ron on the couch. "She's fine. And Michael . . . well, I actually haven't seen him."

"You're a horrendous liar, Hermione," Harry accused.

"Fine, he was talking to her before —"

"What! How dare he even speak to her?" This time it was Ron who beat Harry to the outburst of anger.

Harry didn't say a word. He sat there, looking strangely unruffled, before he finally stood and walked out the door. He just knew that it wasn't going to work for him to have to leave Ginny alone with Michael, even under the watchful eye of McGonogall.

"Harry, where are you going?" he heard distantly from behind him, but he paid no mind. Instead, he walked a little ways down the road and Apparated to just outside the huge Hogwarts' gate bearing the boars' heads. Still radiating the eerie calmness as before, he made his way inside amazingly easily.

The last strains of the Sorting Hat's song could be heard as he found himself outside the Great Hall, watching the petrified first years at the front of the expansive dining hall. His view swept over the students, effortlessly spotting Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Being as how she was the last Weasley left in school, she was almost the only redhead left in Gryffindor. He noticed her glancing anxiously at the Ravenclaw table, a glint of perplexity in her eyes as she saw Michael sitting there. Harry's own hands itched to wrap around Michael's neck and strangle every last ounce of air out of his body, but he managed to contain himself until some students began to filter up to their dormitories, closely followed by the rest.

"Ginny," he whispered when he saw her exiting.

She started, but then a look of happiness mixed with turmoil crossed her face and she flung herself into Harry's arms stiffly. "What are you doing here so soon? N — Not that I'm unhappy to see you."

"Hermione came home . . . she told me she saw Michael with you earlier and I wanted to come to make sure you were all right," he told Ginny concernedly, pulling her aside and out of the way of everyone else.

"I — I'm fine Harry," she stammered, not wanting to let him know what their little chat had been about. He had come to her, contrite and appealing for her forgiveness. He said it'd been his father that threatened her and not him, and that he genuinely wanted to be a part of the baby's life. At first she had slapped him, and turned to walk away, but he had begged and pleaded with her, stating that it wasn't her decision to make whether or not to let their daughter know her father.

"What did he say to you?"

"Why?"

"Because this is not like you, Ginny. Please tell me he didn't use his damn slippery ways to make you think you'd done something wrong?" asked Harry, laying his hands on her shoulders and looking deep into her brown eyes that seemed so bewildered.

"But — what if I led him on, what if I baited him and then just brought it on myself?" she pondered, stepping further away from Harry.

"You can't be serious, Ginny! Think about it, I've been attracted to you since fifth year, and I've never tried to force you to do anything you didn't want to. Michael is using you as an excuse to get the baby, remember what you told me about his father? They want the baby, don't you see that?"

"But he _is _her father . . . "

"Ginny, please listen to me — you said it yourself, _I'm_ her father. I want to be, nothing could make me happier!" Harry sought to pull her near him again, but she pulled her arm from his grasp and turned away, stopping only to hear Harry's heartfelt, "I thought you loved me."

"I do. But it's the baby I've got to think about now, can't you accept that? It would be selfish of me to keep her to myself," she answered, looking down at her toes to avoid seeing the hurt-filled eyes of Harry.

"I don't believe this. I really don't," he muttered, turning away dejectedly.

"Don't leave," Ginny whispered, but it was too late. Harry had vanished before she turned around and she felt tears spring to her chocolate-colored eyes for the millionth time. "I don't want this."


	14. Six Months Gone

_**Chapter 14**_

_**Six Months Gone**_

_**February 2004**_

A baby's shrill cry rang out into the midnight air, and the intensive care Mediwitch at St. Mungo's maternity ward shuffled tiredly over to the crib that bore a small white card reading, 'Weasley, Brandon' in small black letters. "What is it, little one?" she crooned, carefully removing his tiny body from the comfort of the specially heated incubator he'd been kept in since his birth two weeks ago, which was about a month before his due date of March 12th.

"Excuse me . . . Madam Bellford, would you mind if I fed my son this time?" questioned Ron, walking into the nursery just as she was about to make a bottle.

"Of course, Mr. Weasley, here you are," she agreed genially, handing the baby and bottle over. Ron gently cradled Brandon as he placed the nipple of the bottle against his unbelievably small mouth and smiled as he started to eat.

Madam Bellford stated, "If he keeps up eating like that you'll be able to take him home in no time."

"I hope so," whispered Ron, managing to maneuver one hand out to wave a farewell to her as she left.

As she trod out the door, Hermione walked in after her and smiled wistfully at the sight of Ron feeding their son so lovingly. She walked over to him and lay one hand on his broad shoulder, asking, "Did Madam Bellford say we could take him home soon?"

"Mmm-hmm, we'll finally be able to put that nursery to good use," added Ron, standing up from the rocking chair he'd been sitting in and handing the baby to Hermione.

"I wonder how Ginny's doing," mused Hermione contemplatively, as she often did when holding little Brandon in her arms. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever get to know his little cousin, Ginny's daughter. Or, for that matter, if she and Ron would ever know their niece. It had been six months since everyone had seen Ginny off at King's Cross and Harry had gone to Hogwarts after hearing about Michael confronting her. When he'd gotten home that night, he'd packed his stuff from Ginny's room and moved it all to his London flat without any explanation. Nobody had ever got it out of him as to why he suddenly moved out.

Ginny came home for Christmas, but she seemed sick and her face was pale and tense when she discovered Harry's things missing from her room. After that, she barely communicated with anyone at home, they received about an owl a month from her. Harry hadn't spoken with her once since their encounter that day, and he had no idea that everyday she waited for him to come see her, as he'd promised her what seemed ages ago. Everyone in the Weasley family, and Harry, though he'd never admit it to anyone, was extremely anxious these days, knowing that Ginny was due any day now. Naturally, Hermione saw her every day at school, but Ginny avoided her at all costs and made every effort to conceal it from Hermione that she was with Michael once again.

"I don't know," returned Ron, thinking that he'd somehow have to get Harry to tell him what was going on. He was baffled at the fact that two people who'd clearly been in love could stop speaking to each other so abruptly, especially for no apparent reason.

In the Corner mansion, however, things were not so joyful as they were over at the hospital where Ron and Hermione were enjoying their newborn son.

"You bloody well better let me out of here!" shrieked Ginny hoarsely at the top of her lungs. She was sick and tired of begging, and the effect of so much yelling was starting to catch up with her.

The first day of term, after Harry had seemingly abandoned her, she'd fallen for the same old trap once again, as Harry had warned her against doing. Michael had come to her, entreating her to let him get back with her so he could prove that he'd changed and was remorseful for everything he'd ever done to harm her. Believing that Harry had forsaken her and wouldn't want her anyway after what a obstinate bitch she'd been to him, she consented and had somewhat reluctantly got back together with Michael.

It was only after she found him snogging some slutty blonde Ravenclaw that she forced herself to stay away from him. Unfortunately, though, Michael had other plans. Afterwards, when she'd been ready to write Harry and tell him everything, he'd found her and brought her back to his father's house, locking her wandless in a room without any windows, doors, etc.. The only entrance could exclusively be accessed by a certain password thought up by Cillian Corner.

Ginny slumped down against a dreary grey wall, resting her hands over her protruding stomach. She was nine months along now, and she feared that the baby would be born here, therefore under the control of Michael and his father. Tears streamed down her face at the mere thought of what would happen to her baby girl if she were to indeed end up in their care.

Harry sat forlornly in his dismal flat, trying to conjure up some other feeling besides the one of misery he'd felt since the last time he saw Ginny. _It's no use feeling like this, mate, _he told himself, but there was something that plagued him, some thought that Ginny wasn't as happy as she should be. _And why should she be happy living with that monstrosity?_

Without thinking, Harry Apparated to the Burrow, where Ron and Hermione had finally been able to bring Brandon home to. For the time being, they were living there, but Fred and George had offered them the room above _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ in Diagon Alley when they were ready. He found himself in the middle of the kitchen, watching Hermione heat up a bottle for the baby.

"Harry!" she gasped when she turned around. "You nearly scared me to death!"

"Is Ron here?" Harry asked sullenly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, slightly irritated at his lack of greeting toward her. "Yes, he's upstairs with Brandon."

"Can I speak with him?"

"Go ahead, you know the way."

Harry nodded, offering a modest smile as an apology for his gruffness. She made a shooing gesture with her hand, letting him know that she understood he wasn't himself anymore.

"Ron?" called Harry, nearing his room and watching through the open door as Ron rocked Brandon, trying to quell his incessant crying.

"In here, Harry," he responded, motioning him inside.

Harry felt a pang of some unknown emotion as he saw what a great father Ron was, and knew that he'd more than likely never get the chance to do that now. He knew very well that Ginny was his match, and he didn't think it very appealing to see any other women when he'd already found — and lost — the one he was supposed to be with.

"Hey . . . you want to take him?" queried Ron, knowing that Harry was thinking about the opportunity he'd almost had to be someone's father. Maybe not biologically, but he would've been a better father to Ginny's daughter than Michael could ever be.

"Um — sure, I guess . . . "

Harry took the crying baby into his arms easily, rocking him back and forth until his sobs quieted down to small hiccoughs and he opened his huge blue eyes, all but exact replicas of Ron's. "Hello there, godson." Naturally, Harry had been named godfather to Brandon, and Ginny was godmother, but small wonder that she hadn't been present at the christening.

"Ron, I've been thinking . . . "

"Yeah? About what?"

"D'you reckon I should go see Ginny? I mean, she's about to deliver the baby — what if she's scared? She needs someone."

"Well, it's about damn time somebody said it. Harry, she still loves you, she always has and she always will," declared Ron finitely, leaving no room for arguments.

"Are — are you sure, though? She seemed pretty adamant about staying with Michael."

"How dense can one person get?" asked a female voice from the doorway.

Harry turned round to find Hermione standing there, bottle in one hand and the other planted firmly on her hip. "You think I should go, too?"

"We all do, but nobody's been able to pluck up the courage to tell you," she answered nonchalantly, walking over and handing the bottle to Ron, who took Brandon from Harry's arms and began feeding him.

For a moment, all that was heard was Brandon sucking on the bottle, and then a slight _pop _was heard as Harry disappeared from the room.

Minerva McGonogall was seething with anger, though one would never know it from the outside. Her sharp brown eyes radiated no malice, nor did the neutral expression on her face. She remained completely tranquil as she asked, "Are you sure about this, Filius?"

"Absolutely, Minerva. She hasn't been to any classes in almost two weeks," Filius Flitwick replied to the Headmistress.

"When was she last seen?"

"She was seen with that chap Corner . . . Michael, I think it is? Anyway, I believe it was a Hogsmeade weekend, you know — children do tend to go missing there for a bit of fun — but she hasn't returned. And my assistant, Miss Granger, seems most worried about her."

"Has her family been informed?" inquired McGonogall.

"Actually . . . I thought it would be more prudent to notify young Mr. Potter first. You know the Weasley boys, they're more than likely to kill Mr. Corner before we can interrogate him in regard to Miss Weasley's whereabouts," Flitwick told her, bringing a hand up to nervously adjust his tiny glasses atop his equally tiny nose.

"Very well then, I shall — "

Out of nowhere, the said "Mr. Potter" burst into McGonogall's office, though by what means, neither Flitwick nor Minerva herself could say. A special protection charm had been placed around the office as a security measure. Even though Voldemort was dead, there were still several people that would like to see any leader of a school such as Hogwarts dead.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry demanded. He'd gone to the Gryffindor common room, as well as Ravenclaw's, the library, infirmary, here, there, and everywhere he even remotely suspected she might've been, but she was nowhere.

"Calm down — "

"I don't need to calm down, I need to know where she is!" he was hysterical now, pacing back and forth. Suddenly however, he stopped and said, "Michael has her, doesn't he? Doesn't he!"

"I'm afraid so, Potter," confided Flitwick somberly.

"Bloody hell," Harry cursed, running his hands through his unkempt hair, ruffling it even more. "She's about to have the baby."

"We're well aware of that, Harry, and I assure you that we're doing everything we can to find her," McGonogall said gently.

"I'll find her myself," Harry bit back defiantly, storming from the office.

"God help that Corner boy."


	15. Escape and the Rain

_**Chapter 15**_

_**Escape and the Rain**_

"Ron, I've — "

"Shh!" Ron quieted Harry, waving toward the sleeping Brandon in his crib.

"I think you'll want to hear this . . . "

"Well, come on downstairs then, you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get that one to sleep."

"I think I know where Ginny is," Harry burst out with once they were at last far enough away from the slumbering boy.

"Of course you do, she's at Hogwarts," responded Ron, looking at Harry as though he'd lost his marbles.

"No, she's not. Michael's got her."

"WHAT!"

"Shh, I thought you didn't want to wake Brandon!"

Ron's face turned a beet red and Harry swore that if he were a cartoon character, smoke would be coming from his ears. "Brandon's going to be awake soon enough, anyway . . . I can't believe he has my sister! Was she back with him? Is that why you're sulking around all the time? Why the hell didn't you tell anyone about it?"

"I — I wasn't sure if she _really _was with him or not — "

"Even if you suspected it, you really should have said something," charged Ron.

"Said something about what?" investigated Hermione, walking downstairs. "And you'd better keep your mouths shut because the next person who wakes Brandon up is in for it!"

"Michael's gone off and kidnapped Ginny," Ron informed her, causing her face to pale considerably.

"Oh, I was afraid something like this was going to happen . . . "

"You knew too?" Ron directed toward her furiously, causing Brandon to start crying at all the angry voices. Hermione dashed upstairs yet again, this time grateful to her son for providing her with an excuse to elude Ron's condemning stare.

"Listen, Ron, I'm going to find her. The only issue is that I don't know where Michael lives, or even if he's keeping her at his house."

"Well, that's as good as any other place to start, I suppose," Ron managed to say, though he was trying enormously hard to contain the sheer amount of fury building inside of him. When he came face to face with Michael, there would definitely be hell to pay.

Cillian and Michael Corner were standing off to the side while Ginny was being examined by a Mediwitch employed by the Corner family, someone Cillian knew could be trusted.

"How is she?" questioned Michael.

"Oh, she's fine. She's about two centimeters dilated, but as she insists she's felt no contractions as of yet, I'm going to say it'll be about a day or so until the baby puts in an appearance," answered the Mediwitch, a short, plump woman who rather resembled Dolores Umbridge.

"Well, then, that will be all," dismissed Cillian, waving a hand toward the door. After glancing once at Ginny lying languidly on the bed in the center of the room, he himself followed suit, giving his son a hard rap on the shoulder when he seemed rather unwilling to leave Ginny behind.

The truth was, Ginny had been having contractions since the early morning, but she'd swore to herself she wouldn't tell anyone, even if it meant having the baby in complete silence. She gripped the stark white sheets that covered the bed as another pain coursed through her body. True to her word, she made no sound. The only evidence of her pain was the grimace on her otherwise ghastly pale face.

"Harry, I'm sorry," she sobbed to herself. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when I had the chance."

"Where in the hell is she?" growled Harry menacingly, the usual emerald of his eyes now darkened to forest green in anger.

"I — I don't know what you're talking about," stuttered the Mediwitch that had in fact examined Ginny not half an hour earlier. Ron and Harry had just arrived at Corner Manor (as they'd discovered it was called) when they'd noticed the woman exiting the front door with a less than subtle Mediwitch uniform and a bag bearing the emblem of St. Mungo's. They had taken this to mean that Ginny was indeed inside and, in all likelihood, in labor.

"You bloody well do know what I'm talking about," threatened Harry, his wand pointing directly at her chest. "And if you still can't manage to remember, than I fear that I just may have to use this."

"O — Okay. Young woman, red hair, brown eyes? About to have a baby?"

"Yes, not stop your stalling and tell me how to get inside!"

With a last look of pleading desperation, the woman rolled her eyes and let out a huffy breath. "Fine, but I hope you know I'm as good as forfeiting my life. If you can get inside the house — which isn't likely anyway — you have to go straight down the main hallway upstairs. There's a painting of Michael's late mother, Clarice, on the left once you go about ten feet down. Lift it up and say _Flames of Red._ Don't ask about the password, it's what I heard him say. Now will you please let me go?"

"_Obliviate_," muttered Ron, as Harry didn't even have time to answer her question. He'd taken off at a run toward the house the second he found out directions and the password. Glancing back at the dazed Mediwitch, Ron cast a body-bind on her — just in case.

Ron was at long last able to catch up with Harry, who was concealed in some bushes on the side of the house. Silencing Ron by holding his index finger in the air, Harry waved toward a window, illuminated by a single light. Ron's eyes expanded as he saw Cillian Corner, or who he supposed to be Cillian, sitting reclined in a comfortable looking chair, head on his chest. By the apparent evenness of his breathing, he was sleeping. Harry looked at Ron in shock; surely such an important man wouldn't be asleep during the birth of someone he coveted as much as his granddaughter. _Therefore, _Harry pieced together, _Ginny must not be having the baby yet . . . or more likely, putting on that she's not._

"What do you plan on doing?" Ron asked quietly.

"I'm going to save her, that's what I plan on doing."

"As if that weren't obvious — "

"Ron, will you shut up already?" hissed Harry impatiently, trying to consider something. He reached forward and eased open the window, flinching when a small squeaking noise sounded out into the otherwise placid night.

"Oh, is that your master plan? To let everyone know we've turned up?"

"Ron! Shut your loud, gigantic mouth right this second!"

Ron scowled and mouthed silently: "_Shut your loud, gigantic mouth right this second!"_

"Here's the plan: I'm going through this window. You stay here and keep watch; I know Ginny's in here and I know she's in pain. I think she's in labor already."

"So I'm only here to be the sentinel?"

"Right."

"Very well," Ron agreed, not at all eager to encounter Michael's loathsome father, and especially not Michael himself. Then, surely he would be sent to Azkaban for homicide.

Harry sent a skeptical look back at Ron before cautiously launching himself inside the house. He was surprised to find himself in the room and not expelled back fifty feet by some sort of protective charm. Perhaps the Corners felt so superior to everyone that Cillian thought no one would _dare_ intrude upon their home.

The first thing he noticed when he did enter the room that he was in a library of some sort. There were shelves upon shelves of books, most of which bore titles such as _Dangerous Dilemmas for Dummies _and _Extreme Evilness for Everybody_.

"Dad — "

Harry rapidly ducked in back of a shelf as he saw Michael enter the room. The fury that coursed through his veins at the sight of the impudent little bastard was enough to make him want to blow his cover and strangle him with his bare hands.

Cillian started awake, making a snort of some kind as he heard his son's voice. "What is it, Michael? Don't tell me that stupid Weasley girl has managed to escape from right under your nose?"

"No, father . . . but I think she's lying to us. I think she's about to have the baby," answered Michael obediently.

"Really?" Harry heard Cillian ask excitedly, and he could picture him standing there, rubbing his hands with glee.

"Yes, Father, I just came from seeing her. She's a lot paler than the last time I saw her, and every five minutes she clenched her fists as if she were in pain."

"At last, I'll have an adequate child to bring up to the Dark Side," Cillian wheezed, apparently beside himself with happiness.

Harry listened with bated breath as two pairs of footfalls were heard leaving the room, and stepped from behind the bookshelf. He gave a small wave to Ron to let him know he was okay, then walked out the door, following the directions given to him by the Mediwitch. Once he reached the portrait of whom he knew must be Michael's mother (she looked _precisely_ like him) he glanced around him warily before raising up the painting and noticing a small box that looked like those he'd remembered from Muggle drive-throughs at fast food restaurants.

"Er . . . _Flames of Red_?" he stammered softly, still alert so that he wouldn't be taken by surprise if he was caught.

Much as the brick wall in Diagon Alley, the solid wall seemed to melt in front of Harry's eyes. Behind it he saw Ginny stretched out on a bed, breathing very heavily. She wasn't facing the door as he entered, and he heard her say, "So you fools have finally wizened up to the fact that I was lying?"

"Took them long enough. Good job."

Harry could see Ginny's body stiffen at the sound of his voice, and slowly she turned around, tears apparent in her dull brown eyes that had once shone so lovingly at him. "Harry, is . . . is that really — " She was cut off as another pain ripped through her, and she could barely catch her breath.

"Come on, we've got to get you out of here," urged Harry, walking over to her and helping her stand up. She gripped the long-sleeved black shirt he was wearing as the contraction got to the point where she couldn't stand the pain anymore.

"Please," she panted. "Please make it stop."

Harry's heart almost broke at the vision of her in such an phenomenal amount of agony. "Come on, Ron's outside. We're taking you home."

Ginny practically started to cry at the far away prospect of "home," but she knew that like as not, she wouldn't be able to make it home before delivering the baby.

"And just where do you think you're going with my granddaughter, young lady?" asked a slick voice from their left as Harry tried to make it outside with Ginny, who still hadn't let go of his shirt.

"I'll take care of this," Harry whispered in her ear, drawing his wand and aiming it directly at Cillian's chest.

"Oh, Mr. Potter's angry now, is he? Too bad, sir, but I believe that Miss Weasley is going to need to stay here until the baby is born, at which point well, in all likelihood . . . I'll kill her."

"Is that so?" asked Ginny furiously, tentatively letting go of Harry's shirt. Contraction free at the moment, Ginny decided to take things into her own hands.

"Ginny — "

"No, I'm putting this bastard in his place. You listen to me now, Mr. Corner," she spat his name indignantly. "I am not about to let you take _my_ daughter away from me. She may technically be parented by your son, but she's no more his daughter than that plant over there is! She is my daughter . . . and Harry's, and you'd best keep your foul hands off of her!" With her last condemnation, Ginny smirked in triumph as she saw Harry's wand point over her shoulder unexpectedly and hit Cillian fair and square in the chest with a blinding white light.

"We should get out here, NOW!" prodded Harry, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her in the direction of the front entrance.

He could scarcely believe it when they were finally outside in the fresh air, but he soon came down from his sense of exhilaration when he noticed that Ginny was standing still, both hands wrapped around her stomach. He looked at her in question, and she declared, "My water just broke."

"Oh, umm . . . that's not very good, is it?"

"What the hell do you think?" she asked harshly. She moaned as a pain stronger than all of the others put together took over her body.

"Ron! Thank God! I didn't see you — I thought you'd been caught!" exclaimed Harry as he saw the tall red-head hurrying toward them from the bushes where he'd last seen him. "Pay attention: I need you to go to the Burrow and let everyone know where we are and what's going on. We don't have time to get there, Ginny's about to have the baby."

As Ron nodded in compliance, eyes wide, an ominous clap of thunder boomed in the distance. As if that weren't good enough, a downpour of freezing rain was on its heels. "Harry," Ginny gasped, "she's coming . . . "

"Go, Ron! I can't Apparate Ginny anywhere like this!"

Ron disappeared with a faint _pop _and Ginny sunk to the ground on her knees, groaning in protest at the unbearable pain. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before — she'd never been under _Cruciatus_, but she figured that it must be less pain that what she was feeling at the moment.

Harry lifted her up gently, and walked her over toward a tall oak tree nearby. She gratefully leaned back against it, lifting her face to the sky. The icy torrent of rain cooled her burning skin, running down her face and neck. Her comfort didn't last long, however, as she felt a sudden upsurge of pressure, followed by the fierce urge to push.

"Harry! I — I need to — "

"Umm . . . okay, Ginny. Just push when you need to — "

"Now!" she yelled, grabbing hold of his shirt collar.

" _. . . come on just a little bit more . . . that's it, breathe, she's almost here — "_

Over Harry's muffled words of encouragement, Ginny could hear the cry of her daughter. And despite everything that had happened over the past nine months — the rape, the pregnancy, running away — she knew, at last, that she was right where she belonged.

"I – Is she okay?" she stuttered, shivering. Glancing down at the red, wrinkly thing that was her child, Ginny couldn't believe that after all the drama, she was finally here. Safe and sound, in the arms of the people that wanted to love and protect her.

"Well, she seems fine to me," answered Harry quietly. He was no Healer, but he assumed that when a baby was born crying and squirmy, she was doing just fine. He swallowed hard, amazed at what he'd just witnessed.

"Would you like to know her name?"

"What's that?"

"Her name," Ginny repeated. "It's Amaya Bridget. Amaya means "night rain" in Japanese. Fitting, don't you think?" She watched the man before her, and a fresh wave of hot tears came to her eyes. Harry's dark hair was plastered wet over his forehead, and he was looking down at the baby in his arms. It was obvious that he'd already fallen in love with her, and she was barely three minutes old.

"I see them! Over there!" voices were shouting. Ron and a team of Aurors, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and a Mediwitch, were running toward Harry and Ginny. They'd Apparated a bit off their mark, thanks to Ron's memory skills — or rather, lack thereof. Harry shrugged off his jacket, and though it was slightly water-logged, wrapped Amaya in it and handed her over to Ron.

The Mediwitch walked over to Ginny, giving her a cursory exam before helping her to stand carefully. After getting permission from her parents to take her to St. Mungo's, the woman pulled out a small roll of gauze. Harry soon realized that it was a Portkey, one that all Mediwitches and Healers that worked at the Wizard hospital were required to keep on them at all times.

Harry still stood in a daze, not even caring that his clothes were completely soaked through and he was shivering uncontrollably. He Apparated to the Burrow and answered all of Hermione's anxious questions before walking in a stupor up the stairs. Still soaking wet, he sat clumsily on Ginny's bed. He couldn't help but remember the day he'd first arrived; it was in this very room that he'd first found out — where he'd first made the promise to protect Ginny no matter what was to come.

All he could think about was that he was going to be a father . . . _a bloody father._ He loved Amaya more than life itself already. He knew that no matter what happened, he couldn't accept it again if Ginny thought it right for him to be out of her life. He simply _had_ to get Ginny to accept his proposal.


	16. A Time For Love

_**Chapter 16**_

**_A Time For Love_**

" _. . . 'cause it's you and me, and all of the people — and I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you . . . "_

Ginny finished singing the song quietly, laying her daughter down in a solid oak crib that had been hers as a baby. Even at two weeks of age, Amaya's hair was already the trademark Weasley red. But her eyes were completely unique, a sort of brownish with flecks of green and yellow throughout.

Even Molly, who hadn't been too thrilled at the prospect of her seventeen year old daughter becoming a mother herself, had been drawn into Amaya's spell upon seeing her for the first time. Ginny herself had taken quite quickly to being a mother, especially for her young age. The two months' maternity leave from school were giving her the time needed to bond with her daughter. Some of her Professors had volunteered to make regular trips to the Burrow to give Ginny a few vital lessons, seeing as how it _was_ her final year and all.

A gentle knock sounded at the door, startling Ginny from watching her sleeping daughter. She turned around, placing a finger against her lips to indicate the sleeping baby to Harry. Amy, as Ron had affectionately dubbed her, was usually well-tempered, but that afternoon it had been unusually hard to get her to sleep.

Taking his arm and steering him out of the bedroom, Ginny closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally."

"Gin . . . can we talk?"

"Sure." Ginny hesitated, not sure what he was about to say. Ever since he'd delivered the baby, things had been more awkward than usual between them.

"Okay. How about we go out somewhere tonight? I'm sure you could get your mother or Hermione to babysit."

"Sounds like heaven to me. I could use a few hours' break time," Ginny murmured. "7:00 good for you?"

"Great," answered Harry.

"Well, I'll see you then," smiled Ginny before bouncing down the stairs. She was very much enjoying the fact that she was able to do that again. Since the added baby-weight had disappeared, Ginny had been taking long walks with the baby, and doing all kinds of exercise to try and get her pre-pregnancy figure back.

She found Hermione in the kitchen. "Hello, Hermione!" she chirped.

The other witch glared. "And what's got you into such a sunshine-filled mood?"

"Amaya's asleep. And I'm going out with Harry tonight!"

Hermione smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Out, hmm? And let me guess — you're on the prowl for a babysitter?"

A guilty expression on her face, Ginny smiled as winningly as she could. "I would really love it if you could just take Amy for a few hours . . . pleeeeeeeeeease, Hermione? I would love you _forever_."

"Oh, go on," Hermione smiled, taking a sip of tea from her favorite yellow and orange mug. "It'll be good for you. But mind you, I won't forget this the next time Ron and I want to go out."

"Thank you so much!" Ginny practically squealed. She flung her arms around Hermione's neck, squeezing her friend once for good measure. "And I promise you that anytime you and Ron feel like taking the night off, I'll be here."

"Yes, yes, you say that now — we'll see about that when the time comes!" Hermione said jokingly.

Ginny just grinned and decided to take a walk. As she flounced out the door, however, she missed what happened just behind her back. Harry poked his head round the wall by the stairs — Hermione gave him the thumbs up.

Feeling at peace for once, Ginny skipped outside, breathing in the fresh, early-morning air. Living in a house with two newborns caused every person to be awake and ready to start the day before 6:30 every morning. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about her life. Cillian was serving time in Azkaban for holding her hostage, while Michael was also serving time on rape charges. She wouldn't have to worry about them for a _very_ long time. Harry still wanted to be with her, even after all she had done to him. She had a beautiful daughter, a beautiful nephew — things were just going her way all around.

The sun was in the process of rising, and the red, orange, pink and purple colors all blended together to taint the sky a beautiful grapefruit color. Ginny walked along the path that led to the lake behind their house, wondering what it was Harry would want to talk to her about. Ever since she had found out that he'd moved back to his London flat at Christmas, she had been wondering whether or not he would ask her to move in with him. Maybe that was what he was going to ask her tonight!

And if he did, of course her answer would be yes. When she was ten years old, he had stolen her heart and she'd never _really _gotten it back. Sure, she had been with other guys . . . Amaya was living proof of her burning need to forget about Harry. But she'd never let go of the feeling she got when he looked at her just the right way, if his hand accidentely brushed against hers. It was just _right _somehow, without question or doubt.

"You look fine! Will you stop obsessing over yourself?" Hermione sighed in exasperation. Ginny stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room, turning this way and that, criticizing her reflection. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a black tank top under a beige jacket. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, bangs pushed in a fringe to the right side of her forehead. A blue knit scarf and brown shoes topped off the outfit.

"Why would Harry go for _this_?" Ginny complained, running her hands over her stomach. She knew she wasn't _fat_, but she had got quite a bit curvier since the baby. Her hips had widened slightly, and her stomach wasn't technically flat anymore. "Why doesn't he go find himself some skinny woman, hmm?"

"Oh, get real. If he dated you while you were pregnant, why do you think he'd have no interest in you now?"

"Because back then, at least I had an excuse for being fat."

"Please, you are **not fat. **Don't make me tell you again or I _will_ smack you!"

"I know," Ginny conceded. "But I'm not as skinny as I used to be."

"Yes, well, neither is Harry in case you haven't noticed," Hermione countered.

"That's because Harry's got _muscles_, Hermione! And a nice, big — "

"All right, all right! Enough!" Hermione squeaked, hands over her ears. "I do _not_ want to hear about Harry's body right now, okay?"

"HERMIONE! You get out here right now!" Ron suddenly came bursting into the room, ignoring Ginny's presence. "Brandon needs a new nappy, and it's your turn."

"No problem, Ron, I'm on my way." Hermione smiled gratefully at Ron; she even kissed him before she left the room.

"What?" Ginny grumbled. "I was just going to say he had a nice, big flat in London where he can store all his work-out machines."

Ron seemed to suddenly become aware of his sister. "Oh, hi."

"Hi, Ron. What's the matter, don't fancy changing dirty nappies anymore?" Ginny teased.

He made a face and shook his head. "No way — and that woman is constantly telling me that it's _my_ turn, when I know for a fact that she skived off of her turns by getting Mum to do it."

"Shame on her," Ginny said with a mock frown. "Say Ron, you haven't got any idea where Harry's planning on taking me tonight, have you?"

"Umm . . . sorry, no. Can't help you. Nope, no idea. Not a clue," Ron said very quickly. His face suddenly flushed and he looked around nervously. Out of nowhere, he exclaimed, "What's that Hermione! Oh, sure, I'll be right there! I'd be _happy _to change the baby! See ya, Gin!"

He dashed out of her room, closely followed by Ginny. She stopped in the doorway and yelled, "Ronald Oliver Weasley, you get back here right this instant! I know you know what's going on!"

"Ginny! Will you stop with all of that screaming? And get down here, Harry's just arrived." Ginny heard her mother bellowing up the stairs, and stopped short of chasing Ron. Harry was here already — she gulped and tried in vain to calm the butterflies churning up hell in her stomach.

"Thanks very much, Mum, but could you say it a little louder next time? I'm not sure the people in Australia could quite hear it," she muttered under her breath.

She grabbed her purse and ran in to say a quick goodbye to Amy before going downstairs to meet Harry. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she caught sight of him in the living room, chatting with Ron and her mother. He was wearing khaki-colored pants with a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. His black hair was spiked in the front, reminding Ginny of the sixteen year old boy she had fallen in love with.

The conversation he'd been having forgotten, Harry couldn't help but stare at Ginny. "Wow . . . uh, I mean — you look great."

Ginny's cheeks lit with a blush, and she ducked her head. "Thanks . . . you look nice, too. Ready?"

"Sure." He waved to Molly and Ron, who winked at him on the way out.

As the door closed behind the two, Ron looked over at his mother. She had tears in her eyes and was holding a hand to her chest. "My baby . . . "

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, Mum, don't start."

"I'm just so happy for them . . . "

Once outside, Harry gallantly held out his arm for Ginny to slip her own through. She did, allowing him to lead her on. The air was unusually warm for early March. But then again, Ginny always felt warm when she was near Harry.

"So, where _are_ we going? I've had the sneaking suspicion ever since you asked me that I'm the only one who doesn't know."

"You'll see," he said, being as cryptic as possible.

"Quite the tease you are tonight," said Ginny.

"Oh, you have no idea . . . "

"Sweetie, please calm down! Your Mummy's going to be home soon, I promise," pleaded Hermione back at the Burrow. She held Amy in her arms, holding her close to her chest and rocking back and forth.

"Let me have a crack at her," offered Ron. He held Brandon out with one arm so they could switch. Very carefully, Hermione balanced Amy in one arm and accepted Brandon in her other. "You know, maybe we should have another one. You look bloody cute with one in each arm."

"Don't get any ideas, Ronald," Hermione warned with a severe glare. "You'll be sleeping on the couch if you think you'd like to have another one at the moment."

"Goodness, it was just a suggestion," he took his niece in his arms and made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat.

Amy stopped her wailing almost at once when Ron started humming the theme song to a Muggle movie he'd once seen, _Titanic. _It was probably because Hermione had made him watch it over and over again, but the music was the first that came into his mind when he was trying to think of something to calm the girl.

She snuggled her tiny face into Ron's shirt, letting her eyes droop slowly until she was fast asleep in his arms. Brandon was in much the same position in his mother's arms, but he wasn't sleeping. He lay there looking up at her curiously through clear blue eyes, the mirror image of Ron's.

Ron placed Amy in her crib with ease, then motioned for Hermione to walk with him out of the room. When everyone was out, he closed the door and smiled when he realized no sound of a crying baby was heard throughout the Burrow. Miracle, that was.

"You know, you're really very good with her," Hermione praised him.

"Okay, Miss "Don't get any ideas!" Thinking about more, are we?" Ron teased.

"You know I want to have more kids, just not right away. Maybe when Brandon is two," she said, walking down the stairs. Satisfied to find themselves quite alone, she settled down on the soft, worn couch in the living room. Brandon was still laying content on her chest.

"Sometimes when I look at you, 'Mione . . . it makes me want to have a whole litter of kids," said Ron with an unexpected, but heartwarming tinge of emotion in his voice. He sat down next to her and stroked Brandon's soft brown hair.

"That's sweet — I think," she said, blushing.

"Do you reckon we could have that many?"

"Why are you thinking about things like this now?" countered Hermione. "We're not even married, you know."

"I dunno, maybe because I was offered a job. Maybe because it means that we'll have all the money we've ever wanted, all the things we've ever wanted. And maybe because I couldn't picture spending my life with anyone else but you and our children."

Hermione sat there, mouth agape. "Well?" she asked after a few seconds of shocked silence. "What job have you been offered, then?"

"Britain's Magical Ambassador."

"Oh, my — " was all Hermione could manage.

"It'll mean a lot of traveling, you know. And a lot of changes. I'll obviously be based in Britain, but I'll have to go to a whole load of conventions and meetings and such, possibly for weeks at a time," Ron warned her.

"Do you think it will interfere with you being a father — or a husband?" Hermione added, uncertain how she felt about him accepting the job. Even though they weren't making any plans to be married right away, they both knew without a doubt it would happen eventually.

"I'm not going to lie, it won't be the best thing I could do to improve our relationship . . . not that I think it needs improving. But you'll be with me all the time, and I couldn't think of another thing that would allow me to give you everything you deserve, everything our kids will need," said Ron, taking Brandon from Hermione and playing with his little fingers.

"Will it make you happy?"

Ron's ocean blue eyes lit up immediately. "It would make me ecstatic — but only if you agree with me on accepting it. If you don't, I won't even think twice about it."

"Then go for it. I think you should take it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it would be good for you. I told you all of my nagging was going to get you somewhere in life," Hermione said happily, smiling up at Ron.

"You can't possibly know how much I love you," Ron said suddenly, leaning down to kiss her.

"Yeah, yeah . . . tell me again?"

"I love you."

A light breeze was wafting over Ginny's forehead as it creased in confusion. "Where are you taking me?"

"A bit impatient tonight, hmm?" Harry teased. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

"Good, my feet are starting to hurt. These aren't the most comfortable shoes in the world, you know."

"You're in luck. We're here," Harry told her. Reaching in his back pocket, he produced a plain black blindfold. "Put this on."

Ginny hesitated a moment, hating herself for feeling even the tiniest bit of distrust. Fortunately, Harry seemed to sense what she was feeling. "You don't have to worry, love. I'd never hurt you." He said it with so much conviction that any doubt Ginny had went flying out the window.

She grinned, and turned her back to him. He slipped the blindfold over her eyes with tender care, unintentionally pulling her closer to him so he could feel her body against his own. "What are you planning, Mr. Potter?"

"I've already told you — you'll see."

"Fair enough." The awkwardness that Ginny had seemed to feel previously had been reduced a great amount on their walk here. It sounded impossible, but the forty or so minutes it had taken them to get from the Burrow to wherever they were seemed to have mended a rift between the two that neither had known how to fix.

"Do you trust me?" he leaned down to whisper in her ear. It sent a burst of chills down her spine as his breath came into contact with the skin on her neck.

"You know I do."

"Good. Then follow me," his strong hand was on the small of her back, and Ginny felt perfectly safe now. The sound of water trickling nearby roused her interest, so she tried in vain to wriggle out of the blindfold. "Hey! No peeking."

"Fine, fine," she agreed. Harry continued leading her forward.

"Ready?"

"I've been ready since you put me this blindfold on my eyes," Ginny complained.

"Three . . . two . . . "

Without waiting for Harry to do the honors, Ginny twisted out of his hold and yanked the blindfold from her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. A magnificent house stood in front of them, something that looked like it came straight from the pages of an old Southern novel. Being such close friends with Hermione undeniably meant being exposed to all sorts of Muggle novels. It was huge, reminding her of the estate in _Gone With The Wind. _It was a creamy white color, and even in the dark she could make out the yard around it. It stretched almost as far as she could see on either side; the previous sound of water she'd heard was a creek running along a forest of trees behind the house. There seemed to be four floors, and an old-fashioned turret rose from the top.

"Merlin, who lives here?" asked Ginny in awe.

"Um . . . you could, if you wanted to," Harry told her, blushing.

"What do you mean? You can't just go round taking people's houses like that, Harry — "

Losing the shyness that had plagued him for the first part of the evening, Harry turned to face Ginny and said in a loud voice, "Bloody hell, Gin! I want you to marry me, this house is mine — it's ours!"

Ginny's mouth hung open, and her coffee-colored eyes were wide with shock. She managed to mumble a few incoherent sounds.

"Marry me, Ginevra Weasley. Make me yours, and I'll love you until the day I die." Ginny could tell Harry was struggling to hold back tears.

She choked back a sob, trying not to burst into hysterics. She didn't know what she wanted to do, she felt ecstatic, but she wanted to cry. It was worse than the mood swings she's experienced while pregnant! But whatever she was feeling, her answer would be the same. "Yes."

By now, Harry was down on one knee and holding up a little black velvet box. He popped it open to reveal a beautiful ring. It was a band made of platinum with a princess cut diamond in the middle, outlined with a subtle, yet pretty pattern of emeralds alternating with sapphires. Harry's trembling hands caused it to sparkle as the moonlight shone on it. He grinned and took it out, slipping it onto the shaking third finger of her left hand. "Now get up and kiss me."

Harry did as he was told. "I love you so much, Ginny. I hope you know that," he murmured against her hair, squeezing her against him.

"Believe me, I know. I know," she repeated, threading her fingers through his mess of ebony hair. She pulled him down toward her to connect her lips with his once more. He tasted so good — a mixture of something minty and yet sweet at the same time.

"Feel like exploring a bit?" Harry asked when they pulled apart.

"I'd love to."

He took her hand and led her into the huge house, watching with pleasure as her brown eyes widened in amazement once she was actually inside. It was, if possible, more beautiful inside than out. The foyer was marble and had a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting glimmers across the smooth walls, which were lit only with a dim light from some unknown source. She choked back a gasp, somewhat embarrassed at her reaction to such wealth. True, she had not lived her childhood in riches and treasure, but this was so much more than she could have ever imagined. A set of spiral staircases led to what she knew to be the second floor; they were white marble and had a rich solid wood railing traveling their length.

She looked at Harry and could think of nothing else to say to him except, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, Ginny. You know that anything I can I'll do for you," he responded, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

She hugged him and then he gave her a soft push to the stairs. "Let's see what it's like upstairs," he told her with a mischievous grin on his face.

"If you say so, Potter," Ginny answered, responding to his flirting.

He grabbed her hand and bounded up the stairs two at a time. It seemed as if he was _very_ eager to show her something. "Okay, there's one more thing I need to show you . . . " Harry trailed off as they reached the top.

Ginny looked at him from under her thick lashes and wondered what other trick he had up his sleeve. She didn't have much time to speculate, because the origins of the strange light from downstairs were soon clear to her. A hallway stretched out before the two of them, several doors lining either side. The door nearest the top of the stairs was cracked open a bit, but dark inside, and the one closest to that was fully open while a light shone from inside.

Ginny shot Harry a quizzical look, but he just smiled and led her the remaining few steps to the mystery door. Without saying a word, he let her walk in first. The sound of a pin being dropped could've been heard, it was that deadly quiet. Then, quite out of the blue, Ginny burst into hysterical tears.

"Gin, what — ?" Harry walked into the room and saw her holding her face in her hands, shoulders shaking.

"Harry — you — shouldn't — do all — this — for — me," she sobbed between hiccoughs.

"Why the sudden change?" Harry asked her. He walked over to her and placed a comforting hand on her back.

She shrugged away from Harry's touch and turned to face him. She seemed to have calmed a bit as she spoke. "This is — amazing, more than I _ever _could have hoped for from _anyone_. You're eighteen years old, what makes you think you're ready to commit to something like this? You've got your whole life ahead of you." Ginny was now waving her arms like mad, trying to refer to the room around her. To the whole house, in fact.

The second she'd entered the room they were now in, some unknown emotion had hit her square in the chest. It was making it hard to accept the life Harry was offering her. It was a pink and white themed room, clearly a nursery. The large bay window faced west and was, at the moment, letting in the moonlight from outside. White curtains were on either side of it, held back by pale pink satin ribbons. A crib was on the southward wall, complete with tiny stuffed animals, full sheet set, and a mobile hanging from the top with tiny broomsticks bewitched to chase each other in circles while a soothing lullaby played.

Harry was speechless, not exactly sure what to say. After a moment's pause he said, "I know I have my whole life ahead of me. But — well, my whole life is you. And Amy, of course."

Silently, Ginny straightened herself up and stared Harry hard in the eyes. When she saw the emotion showing clear, her expression softened. "Are you sure, Harry? You want to change your entire life for me?"

"I wouldn't think twice about it. And I'd hardly call it changing my entire life . . . I guess on some level I've always thought of my future with you in it. Only 'til now it hasn't come true," answered Harry. He drew her even closer to him and smiled when she relaxed in his arms with her head against his chest. He inhaled the comforting scent of her shampoo and felt his grin grow broader.

"I love you, Harry," whispered Ginny, wiping the last remaining tears from her eyes.

"And I always will," Harry added to her statement.

She snuggled closer to his warmth and smiled when his arms snaked around her lower back. "Fancy having a look at your — our — room?" asked Harry after a few seconds.

Ginny nodded, and followed Harry back out into the hallway. He turned into the door that they'd passed earlier, the dark one that was closest to the stairs. "_Illumis_," Harry mumbled, wand pointed at the ceiling. Lights flooded the room, and Ginny was amazed for the umpteenth time that night. The room spread before her was rather large, and colored with hues of blues and greens. A bed sat in the direct center with fluffy, navy-blue bed-settings and pillows. Two tables were on either side, identical lamps on each. The moon was shining palely through a window that looked exactly like the one in the nursery.

"I love it," Ginny breathed, enveloping Harry in yet another embrace.

"I hoped you would," said Harry.

Without warning, Ginny broke away from him and jumped on the bed. She fell backward with a soft _plop_. Harry followed suit. The two of them were lying on their backs, looking up at the smoothly painted blue ceiling. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Don't you think we'd better get back to the Burrow? Amy's probably driven Ron and Hermione barmy by now."

Ginny rolled over and placed a hand on his chest. "You're probably right. Besides, I can't waitto tell everyone we're getting married!" Harry smiled at her exuberance. It meant the world to him to know that he was the one who had made her this happy.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived back at the Burrow. It was well past midnight, so Ginny opened the door very quietly and let Harry in behind her. The house was quiet, except for a set of soft voices coming from the living room. Harry and Ginny grinned at each other, then walked inside to find Ron and Hermione sitting on a couch, arguing quietly about something.

"I know her, and I'm telling you that she's going to say yes . . . " was Hermione's side of the argument.

"She bloody well better say yes! The poor bloke's been after her forever. But I'm her brother, and I don't think she'll agree to accept that _house _. . . "

"Ahem," Ginny cleared her throat. Ron and Hermione jumped.

"Oh, uh — hello guys! We were just . . . oh, never mind, you know what we were talking about," Ron trailed off. "So which of us is right?"

Ginny didn't say anything. Slowly, she brought her left hand into the dim light and let the ring sparkle there. "You said yes!" Hermione's shriek rang through the silent house.

Immediately, a baby's cry sounded from upstairs, followed by another one not two seconds later. "Good going, Hermione. I think _you_ can be the one to get that," said Ron, self-satisfied. "And you're always blaming _me _for being too loud when the babies are sleeping . . . "

Hermione's answering glare could have killed. "Uh . . . I'll go," Ron finished quickly.

"Yes, you will," said Hermione.

As Ron made his grumbling way up the stairs, Hermione hugged Ginny, then Harry. "Oh, I'm so happy for you two!"

Ron returned a few minutes later with Amy in his arms. "Brandon went back to sleep."

"Good, he hasn't been sleeping well," said Hermione.

"Here, go see Mummy," Ron grumbled, handing Amy off to Ginny. Harry watched silently as Ginny took her daughter into her arms and smiled. He'd never seen her behave so naturally.

"Um . . . Ron, let's go upstairs for a little while," Hermione said, glancing pointedly at Harry and Ginny.

"Why? Haven't I just told you that Brandon's asleep — ?"

"Oh bloody hell, just go!" Hermione snarled, pushing him toward the stairs.

"Watch the mouth!" Harry heard Ron scold on their way out.

"Hello, sweetie! Did you miss Mummy?" Ginny was cooing to Amy. The baby looked up at her innocently, blinking her huge eyes once or twice.

Harry watched, smiling. Suddenly, Ginny looked up at him and asked, "Hold her for me?"

Hesitating for only a second, Harry nodded and accepted the child carefully. Her tiny head nestled immediately into the crook of his arm. She looked up at him now, seeming to know much more than a two-week old child should know. Harry didn't even realize that Ginny had left the room until he heard squealing from upstairs and knew she had met up with Hermione again. "Well, hello there Amy. It looks to me like we'll be a family pretty soon."

He wasn't certain that she could yet, but Harry could have sworn that she smiled at him.

The wedding was planned for the fourteenth of August. For the time being, Ginny and Amy moved in with Harry at his flat until after the wedding, when they planned on all three moving into the house. Ginny had found out that it was located on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, far enough from her family so as not to have to deal with unwanted intrusions, but close enough for grandma baby-sitting duties at a moment's notice.

The months from early March, when Harry had proposed, to August flew by. Amy had grown into a healthy little six-month old, just learning to crawl. And now, she was doing just that in Ginny's old room in the Burrow. It had been converted into a sort of "guest" nursery for Amy after Ginny moved out. The old full-length mirror had been brought in for the occasion and stood propped against the wall. It was in front of the mirror that Ginny now stood, looking herself over. Hermione and Molly stood behind her. Ginny's long white dress was simple, but beautiful. It was more of an off-white, cream color and was off the shoulders, reaching to her calves. Her auburn hair was let loose and flowing to just past her shoulder blades, curled into soft waves. In her hands she held a bouquet of white callalilys mixed with baby blue carnations and yellow roses.

"Oh, my baby," Ginny heard her Mum sniffle from behind her.

"Mum . . . " Ginny whined. "I'm hardly a baby. Don't do this again."

"I'm so sorry, dear. It's just I can remember the day you were born — " Molly was off again into a torrent of tears. Ginny and Hermione shared a smile at the older woman's expense. Hermione was the maid of honor, and her own dress was a periwinkle blue, spaghetti strap one that the other bridesmaids wore as well. She had chosen Lauren, Riley, Angelina and Katie as well as Hermione, to be part of the bridal party.

"Almost ready?" Hermione whispered.

Ginny nodded excitedly, then said, "Mum, will you take Amy and go sit down outside? We're nearly ready."

Molly nodded, and wiped vainly at her eyes. "Come on, Amykins, let's go get ready to watch Mummy and Daddy get married!"

Hermione and Ginny watched as Molly left with the baby. Amy's own outfit was adorable, a light pink frilly dress accompanied by a white bow in her vibrant red hair. Ginny continued to watch through the window as Molly carried Amy across the lawn and down to the lake, where the ceremony would be held shortly before sunset.

"Well, I suppose we should get going," Ginny said. Hermione nodded, and looped her arm through Ginny's.

The two of them went down to the area off to the side of the actual ceremony site where the wedding party would be entering from. There, they separated, Hermione going to stand beside Ron. Harry had chosen Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron to be his groomsmen. Seamus, Neville and Dean had been a distinct possibility until the bridesmaids had insisted on being able to walk down the aisle with their own boyfriend, fiancé, or husband. So the three boys had contented themselves with being guests. Ron, of course, was the best man.

Ginny's heart fluttered as music began playing from somewhere to her left. She watched as Bill and Lauren's youngest daughter Victoria, the flower girl, started walking down the aisle. She scattered blue flower petals along the white carpet that led to the front of the site.

Following her were Ron and Hermione, arm in arm. Once at the front, they separated: Ron to the right, Hermione to the left. Next went Bill and Lauren, Charlie and Riley, Fred and Angelina, George and Katie. Finally, it seemed that Ginny was the only one left. "Ready, pumpkin?" Ginny looked behind her and smiled at her Dad. He came to stand next to her and looped his arm through hers.

"Yes. I'm ready."

All of a sudden, the soft, flowery music that had accompanied the others down the aisle stopped and was replaced by a different, but still more beautiful tune. Ginny had passed up the traditional 'Here Comes the Bride' in favor of a melody her father had sung her to sleep with when she was little. At the end of the aisle, Ginny caught sight of Harry at the front, smiling brightly at her. His calm manner was contagious, and Ginny found herself more relaxed than she'd been the whole day.

After what seemed ages to Ginny, they reached where Harry and the others stood. Minerva McGonogall stood in front, ready to officiate the ceremony. In the wake of Dumbledore's death, she had taken over nearly all his responsibilities, which included marrying select witches and wizards. She was wearing the traditional crimson colored robes officiates in the Wizarding world always wore, and a warm smile on her age-worn face.

The music stopped when Arthur let go of his only daughter's arm and placed it in Harry's. He kissed Ginny on the cheek, and with a tear in his eye went to sit next to Molly. The conventional Wizard wedding followed, until it was time to say vows. Ginny and Harry had decided it would be best to write their own.

Harry went first. "Ginny, on this day I think I am quite possibly the luckiest man in the world. We've been through so much together. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anybody, and I am more than ready to be a husband to you and father to Amaya. I have loved you my whole life, though I would never admit that while we were in school." A chorus of chuckles sounded here. "You are my past, my present, and my future, and I promise that I will always be with you. Always."

Ginny smiled through the tears in her eyes, and then it was her turn. "Harry Potter. The boy I gave my heart to when I was just ten years old, and the one I knew I was meant to be with. You are the reason I'm alive today, Harry, you know that. Your love is the only thing I will ever need in this life to get me through the hard times. And Merlin knows, we've been through those already. It means more to me than you could possibly know that you accept me as I am, that your love shines through to me like a beacon in the dark. I am ready to become everything you've ever wanted, everything you've dreamed of. I'm ready to love you without bounds."

There wasn't a dry eye in the yard after Ginny had finished her vows. "Well, now," McGonogall sniffed. "By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you Wizard and Wife. Harry, for Merlin's sake, kiss your bride!" Everyone laughed, and then clapped heartily as Harry did just that.

The wedding was a casual affair, just a simple barbeque outside in the Burrow's backyard. So it was easy for Harry and Ginny to escape for a few minutes while people were eating. The sun was nearly finished setting, and it cast a dusky, smoky glow over everything. Ginny held a sleeping Amy in her arms, a thin white blanket snuggled around her.

They walked up a hill, and stopped by a large birch tree near the lake. Ginny handed the baby to Harry, who held her close with one arm and draped the other around Ginny's waist. The position triggered something familiar in Ginny's mind.

"Harry . . . I know this moment. I've seen this before." Ginny looked around at the setting sun, the tree behind them, and then vaguely at the place about twenty yards away where she knew they, the "they" of the past, were crouching.

Harry was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when I did the spell to find out if I was pregnant? Remember where it brought us?"

It finally clicked in Harry's mind. This was where it had brought them. The charm had brought them to the day of their wedding, over a year into the future. Knowing he should, Harry leaned down and kissed her. Ginny sighed against his lips, and Harry deepened the kiss.

They broke away, Ginny's head rested against Harry's chest. Her train of thought took a turn toward the past year, back to when she had been a hermit in her room. At least she had been, until Harry came and broke her out. She realized that she'd been more than a hermit in the Burrow . . . she'd been a hermit inside herself. After Michael had betrayed her, she couldn't find it in her heart to let anybody else in. But Harry had steadily chipped away at the hard shell she'd erected against the world, and eventually broken in. And she was glad he did, because if he hadn't, Merlin only knew where she'd be right now. Certainly not _happy _about the fact that she had conceived a child from her terrible experience, and certainly not married and about to start a beautiful new family.

Harry tightened his grip around Ginny's waist, pulling her closer to him. They remained silent for a while, and as Ginny contemplated the past year's events, Harry did the same. Over the course of his eighteen years, he had faced an unending amount of obstacles. But also an almost equal amount of joy that went along with those obstacles. After defeating Voldemort for the final time, Harry had thought that nothing could compare to the happiness, the _euphoria_ that went along with it. But he was wrong, because this . . . this moment in time, the prospect of starting a new life with Ginny was everything he'd ever wanted and more. She was his other half, the one who completed him. And he realized, for the first time in a long time, that his life was more than complete.

"I love you, Harry," Ginny's soft voice broke his reverie.

"I love you, too."

Ginny tilted her head up to gaze into Harry's emerald green depths with her own chocolate brown ones. Harry kissed her again, and it was in that moment that the colors of the forest were finally, inseparably united.


End file.
